The Relocation of Elijah Robbins
by aggiefrogger
Summary: Elijah Robbins is sent to live with his distant uncle, blind author Jeffrey Robbins, moving from Galveston Island to New York state. Little does he know that he will soon be thrust into a fantastic world that he had no idea existed outside of fiction, making new friends (and enemies) along the way. And he's deaf, too. I do NOT own Gargoyles in ANY way, shape or form!
1. Chapter 1

**Hey, Readers and Gargoyle Fans!**

**Here's a new Fanfiction featuring two of my favorite _Gargoyles_ characters: Hudson and Jeffrey Robbins! Seriously, I admired their friendship, and they were very wise characters; their episodes stand out in my mind when I think of the series as a whole. I decided to come up with a story that takes place after the end of The Gathering story arc from Season 2 (so it starts in July 1996), and wondered what would happen if Jeffrey had a nephew who came to live with him, and how he'd react to the gargoyles. It will follow the comic story arc after the end of Season 2.**

**I hope you enjoy these first few chapters, and get ready for a fantastic journey!**

* * *

**Noises Off:**

**Elijah POV:**

Elijah Robbins didn't want to live with his uncle in upstate New York, but he didn't have much say in the matter; his parents were dead, so he needed to live with _someone._ And that someone happened to be Jeffrey Robbins, his dad's older brother, who was also an award-winning author, a Vietnam veteran with a Purple Heart, and blind.

Just great. A blind author and a deaf teenager. This was gonna be fun.

As he stared out the window at the countryside, Elijah was fortunate that he was able to switch off his hearing aids, since the cab driver was a Chatty Carl that was currently going on and on about some relative of his. He hated people that prattled on for hours and hours, and hoped that his uncle wasn't one of those people. Every once in a while, the boy looked in the review mirror, checking to see if the man was still talking, and was able to lip read some of what he was saying; apparently, his cousin was currently in jail for- The teen looked away, not caring about it; he just wanted to get to wherever he was going and lock himself in his room for the rest of his life.

He hadn't even _met_ his uncle before his parents' funeral a month ago, and he hadn't called since; apparently, his dad and uncle were estranged from one another, some sort of old argument between the two, and they'd never gone to visit the author, and he'd never come to visit them. Besides that, there were no phone calls, no letters on his birthday... no communication whatsoever. So, when he was told that he was going to live with said uncle on the other side of the country, he was nervous, to say the least, and determined not to let his Uncle Jeffrey completely into his life, since he hadn't cared enough to make an effort to do so before now.

Elijah started at someone tapping his shoulder, turning back towards the cab driver and turning his hearing aids back on.

"-few more minutes until we get there," the guy was saying. "No need ta pay me; yoir uncle already did that."

"T-Thanks," the teen muttered, checking that his knapsack was still sitting on the seat next to him. His suitcase, containing his clothes and few worldly possessions, was in the trunk, and he could now hear the case shifting around every time the car took a turn.

Eventually, they arrived at a large house, pulling up a long driveway and stopping by the front door. The setting sun cast a warm glow on the house, and for a second, the boy thought it looked like a cool place to live, and took a sniff of the sea-salt air, not unlike the air back in Galveston. As he climbed out of the car, he heard the sound of a dog barking on the other side of the door, which opened as he was going around to grab his bags.

His Uncle Jefferey looked the same way he had at the funeral, except that he wasn't wearing a tuxedo. His hair was cut short to his head, similar to Elijah's own hairstyle, and the man wore those tinted sunglasses that all blind people wear, which, combined with his square chin, made him look serious, like a college professor or something. He wore a blue cable-knit sweater, casual slacks, and he held a simple white cane in his left hand. At his feet was his seeing eye dog, Greta or something, who sat at attention by her master's side, giving the boy a curious look.

"Is that you, Elijah," his uncle asked, walking down the few steps towards the cab.

"Yes," the teen said shortly, taking a few steps towards the man, unsure if he should offer out his hand or not, since the guy couldn't see him.

The blind man gave him a warm smile. "I'd recognize that voice anywhere; you sound just like your dad when he was your age." He held out his hand, and the boy shook it, surprised at how firm and manly the grip was. "Welcome to your new home, though I wish you were staying here under different circumstances."

"Thanks," Elijah muttered.

"And of course, you remember Gilly from the funeral," he asked, indicating to the dog next to him. "Let her sniff your hand before you try petting her." The boy obliged, smiling a little as the dog licked his hand and allowed him to pet her. "You came just in time for dinner." He turned in the general direction of the cab. "Do you need any help with your luggage?"

"I'm fine," the boy said quickly; the last thing he needed was a blind guy helping him carry stuff up the stairs. He quickly pulled his suitcase out of the trunk, thanked the driver, who drove off, and carried it and his knapsack up the steps to the house.

The inside was just as nice, and looked like one of those mansions form those old murder-mystery films; wooden panels on the walls, an ornate carpet covering the wooden floor, and, looking up, it even had an ornate chandelier hanging from the ceiling. He knew his uncle was a famous author and that he got money from disability probably, but he didn't expect him to live in such a large house by himself.

"You're room's upstairs, turn left, and it's the first one on the right," Uncle Jeffrey told him, standing by the foot of the stairs. "Want me to show you where it is?"

"I'll manage. Thank you, though," he added quickly, making his way up the stairs, carrying his heavy bag as he found his room, nudging open the door with his foot.

It looked like a regular bedroom; it had a bed, a desk with a small computer on it, a small bookshelf with some novels on it, and a dresser, as well as another door off to the side that led to a personal bathroom. Placing his luggage by the foot of his bed, he stared around at his new home, even looking out the window, which had a view of the backyard, which was large, and held another back driveway partially surrounded by brick walls; several yards past a gate was a beach that led down to the ocean. Turning away from the window, he walked into the bathroom, looking around the simple space before his eyes fell on his reflection in the mirror.

He still looked the same, though he expected himself to look different after his parents' death, for some reason. He was still five foot nine, fifteen years old, and still had the same, narrow face that he took from his mother. His skin, a deep cocoa color, he took from his father, and he ran his fingers through his short hair, which was also his father's. His thin, lanky figure was the only other thing he inherited from his mother besides his eyes, which were blue, like the summer sky. And, of course, he saw the brown plastic of the behind-the-ear hearing aids curling around the back of his ears.

For a few moments, he stared at his reflection, trying not to think about the two most important people in his life that were gone forever, as well as the only home he'd ever known that was now over a thousand miles away. Then, remembering his uncle saying something about dinner, he quickly left the room, making his way back downstairs.

..

The house was surprisingly cold, despite the warm weather outside, and Elijah was grateful that he still wore his light coat as he made his way down the main hallway, passing an ornate-looking library full of books and comfy chairs before finding the kitchen. To his surprise, he saw his uncle at the table, ladling some sort of batter into a frying pan.

"How's the room," the blind man asked, not looking over in his general direction. "If you don't like it, I could move you into another room."

A little surprised at how his uncle had known he was there, he nodded, then remembered his uncle couldn't see that. "I'm fine. It's a nice room; pretty cool view of the ocean."

"I thought you'd like it," the man replied, grabbing a nearby spatula, ready to flip the cakes when they had finished cooking. "I hope you don't mind pancakes; turns out I need to go shopping for groceries."

"It's fine," the boy replied, watching his uncle slip the spatula under one of the cakes. "How do you know where everything is?"

"Well, since I live here, I know where everything is and how to get around," his uncle explained. "Also, I like to think of the pan as a clock; the first cake is at noon-" He flipped that corresponding cake. "-the next is at three-" He flipped that pancake. "And the others at six and nine. It's also how I know where food's located on my plate."

"Sounds complicated," Elijah commented, who preferred using digital clocks.

"It is, but you get used to it after so many years; makes being unable to see a whole lot easier. That reminds me," Jeffrey added, looking over in his general direction, "is there anything else I should know about your disability?"

The teen immediately stiffened, his fists clenching slightly as the subject turned to his hearing. "N-No; nothing that you probably don't know already. I need special batteries for my hearing aids-"

"Got a box of them in the drawer over there," his uncle interjected, indicating to some place behind him.

"Right. And basically, if they break, I'm supposed to let you know, and I have my Audiologist's number, as well as the number of their colleague in the city. I also have the make and model of my current hearing aids. I usually take them out when I go to sleep, but I sometimes leave one of my older models in my right ear if I need to wake up with an alarm."

"Well, I usually stay up late most nights," the blind man told him, flipping the pancakes again. "I'm a bit of a night owl, so I'm usually not up until ten am each morning."

"I'm the same way," Elijah replied. "Especially since-" He cut off, recalling the reason why he often stayed up so late.

Fortunately, his uncle didn't press the issue, transferring the pancakes to a nearby plate and switching off the stove. "Follow me; we'll eat in the dining room."

He followed Uncle Jeffrey into the dining room, which looked like a rich person's dining room, and they sat at the same end of the long table so they could continue to talk. It was almost eerie, just sitting in this large room with one other person and a dog, but at least a nearby window let the light of the sunset in.

"So Elijah," his uncle asked, putting two of the pancakes on another plate, handing it to him, "any interests or other things I should know about you? I mean, I've never met you before the funeral, though I would have liked to."

"Not much," the boy muttered, picking at his pancakes with his fork, ignoring the butter and syrup his uncle had set nearby. "I mean, I don't really do much; I swim, I listen to music, I read-"

"Have you seen the library yet?"

"I passed it."

"Feel free to go in there whenever you want; my collection is your collection. And don't worry," he added, giving his nephew a small grin, "not all of them are in Braille!"

The teen rolled his eyes a little at the man's attempt to be humorous. "Thanks."

There was a short lapse of silence, then Uncle Jeffrey spoke up again. "How's the family back in Texas? I heard that Martha's new child got baptized right before you came here."

"Do you mean Cecilia?"

"Yeah."

"She's fine; the party was fine, and Aunt Martha actually drove me to the airport this morning." It was hard to believe how long ago that was; it seemed like centuries ago that he'd last been in Texas, and now he didn't know if he'd ever see it again.

"Wow," the man said to himself, taking a bite of his own pancakes. "It's been a while since I've seen most of our family down there."

"It's been a while since you've seen _anyone,_" the boy muttered to himself, finally pouring some syrup on his pancakes.

His uncle didn't reply to the comment, or even showed that he heard it, but continued on as normal. "Of course, I've always preferred the sea, which is why I settled out here, and I enjoy the seclusion of the area, though my friends come and visit every now and then." He felt his watch, which the boy noticed had raised ticks on it, not unsimilar to Braille (he'd done some research before coming about blind people so he didn't have to ask his uncle about how he read and so on). "One of my good friends should be coming here in about an hour or so, actually. Would you care to meet him?"

"Who is he?"

"Just another old veteran like me; his name's Hudson, and he was interested in meeting you, based on what I've told him about you." Uncle Jeffrey stared right at him, the boy's reflection in his tinted sunglasses. "He's here most evenings each week, so you'll probably meet him eventually, but if you're still tired from the flight and taxi ride-"

"I'll probably get some sleep," Elijah replied quickly, not really wanting to deal with two strangers asking him about his feelings or deafness or well-being now that his parents were dead. He took another bite of the pancakes. "These are good, by the way."

"Thank you. It took me a while to learn how to cook on my own, but now it's one of my favorite parts of the day."

"What do you do during the day?"

"Mainly research and work on my upcoming novel. It's not a very exciting lifestyle, I know, but I enjoy it. But, of course, if you want something more to do, I trust you to go swimming by yourself; the Atlantic Ocean's on our back step. Also, I have a VCR in the living room if you'd like to rent a movie from the village video store."

"Thanks."

They ate in silence after that, both finishing a few minutes later, and the teen offered to clear the dishes, some of his mom's lessons on guest manners still in his head. He thanked his uncle for the food and excused himself right as the sun set outside.

Going to his room, he unpacked his clothes, putting them in the dresser, put some of his books on the shelf next to the other novels (some of the ones that were already there were written by his uncle, he noticed), and he pulled out his own copy of his uncle's most recent novel that he'd bought, _The Sword and the Staff,_ opening it to the bookmark a few chapters in.

It was a fantasy novel, like _Lord of the Rings,_ and focused on the wizard Merlin and some sort of magical scrolls. It wasn't his type of book, but he figured he might as well read it, just in case his uncle asked him if he'd read it; the fact that there was a copy already waiting on him in his room, he knew he'd made the right choice. He turned off his hearing aids, bringing the world into silence, not just because he wanted to focus, but also so he could ignore whatever visitor was coming later that night. He had enough of people talking to him from the funeral until now about his parents, lamenting what had happened, and he just wanted everyone to stop focusing on him and go back to their own lives.

Elijah hated being pitied; he already got enough of it because he only had 10% working hearing in each ear, and he needed hearing aids in order to hear. He just wanted people to just ignore the plastic contraptions in his ears when they met him, but it was always the first thing people noticed when they met him; he wanted the type that fit snugly and was hidden in the ear, but because of costs, he had a behind-the-ear kind that wrapped around the outside of his ear. Even though it was the same color as his skin tone, it was still pretty noticeable, and people immediately asked him about it. Of course, with being deaf, now combined with the death of his parents six weeks ago, it was almost unbearable, so he had resolved to avoid people at all costs.

_And now I'm stuck at a house in the middle of nowhere,_ he thought to himself, looking out the window at the ocean that was barely visible in the darkness. _With an uncle I've never met before, and everyone I know is over 1600 miles away._

He sighed, looked up at the ceiling for a few moments, then returned to his book.

* * *

**Hudson POV:**

Hudson landed in Robbins' backyard, a little tired out from the flight, but ready to continue the book he and the author were currently reading together (_All Creatures Great and Small _by James Herriot). Going up to the back door that led directly into the library, he knocked before entering.

"Good evening, Hudson," Robbins told him, closing the book he was reading as Gilly ran up to the aged gargoyle, who smiled and pet the dog.

"Good evenin'," the gargoyle replied, folding his wings around him, almost like a cape, closing the door behind him. "Not very cloudy tonight; moon's pretty bright as well."

"Thank you," the blind author replied; the gargoyle often told him what the outside evening was like, since he couldn't see it himself. "How is the rest of the clan?"

"They're doin' fine," he replied, settling himself in his regular armchair on the other side of the fireplace. He was careful not to reveal too much about his life at home, since the blind man didn't know of his gargoyle-ness; the old gargoyle didn't want to risk loosing his friendship with the author."Anythin' new with ye?"

"Yes; Elijah arrived a few hours ago."

Hudson's eyebrows raised in surprise, panicking a little. "I thought he wasn't due for another week!"

"That was a week ago," his friend said good-humoredly. "I offered for him to meet you tonight, but he claimed to be tired from the trip."

The old gargoyle gave a relieved sigh, glad that someone who could see what he really was; he made a mental note to be more careful when he visited so he could learn the youth's schedule and avoid him. "'_Claimed?'_ Ye don't believe him?"

"I think he just needs some time to adjust. He's moved here from the other side of the country, and his parents died a little over a month ago; it's a lot for someone his age to deal with. It's going to be tough, getting him to open up and help him acclimate to his new home, so don't be surprised if it's a while before you officially meet him."

"I understand. To be honest, I was nervous about meetin' him as well."

"Really? How come?"

"Uh... I'm just not good with kids." Hudson didn't know if that was true, but he figured that it was a better reason than admitting that he was a gargoyle. "And ya told me he can't hear; that's what being deaf means, right?"

Robbins chuckled a little at that, getting up from his chair and walking over to the bookshelf, feeling the Braille bumps on the spines. "Not necessarily. Yes, while most deaf people cannot hear anything at all, he has slight hearing in each ear, but not well enough to hear regular conversations. He wears hearing aids; tiny machines in his ears that amplify sound so he can hear like a normal individual." He pulled a book off the shelf, sliding his fingers over the bumps on the cover. "Also, from what I've heard from his aunt, he's an expert lip-reader."

"A what?"

"He can tell what people are saying without hearing them, just by watching the movement of their mouths."

"Incredible," the gargoyle said, impressed that someone so young was able to do that. "I had heard that they sometimes can talk with their hands-"

"American Sign Language," the blind man interjected, walking back to his seat. "But don't worry; when his hearing aids are on, he doesn't really need to use ASL. It wouldn't really help in his case, anyway, with me being blind and all."

"Is he a nice lad?"

Jeffrey sighed, still holding the book in his hands. "Yes, but I think that it will be a long time before I get to see that side of him. I… was never present in his life before now; the only time we've met before today was at his parent's funeral. It's partly my fault as well, for not reaching out to him or his family years before, but I'm hoping to make up for lost time with him here."

"Well, I wish ye the best, and I'll wait as long as necessary until the lad wants ta meet me," the aged gargoyle said genially, giving his friend a small smile.

Robbins gave a smile of his own. "Thank you. Now," he continued, opening the book to the bookmark, "let's see where Mr. Herriot's journey takes us tonight."

* * *

**So this is the end of the first chapter! We met Elijah, recently orphaned, deaf, and not happy to be living with his uncle in New York.**

**Now, before you continue the story, I should probably let you all know: I myself am not deaf, nor am I related to anyone or friends with anyone that is deaf or suffers from hearing loss. **

**Now, you're probably wondering why the heck I decided to write about someone who's deaf as if I had the knowledge to do so. While I am not deaf myself, I am currently learning American Sign Language, which is one of the reasons I was inspired to write this story. I was also inspired because of the lack of main characters that are deaf or suffer from hearing loss, and figured that it would be a nice change from OCs with normal hearing.**

**So, if anyone out there is deaf or suffers from hearing loss, or knows someone that is, I do NOT mean any disrespect, nor am I pretending to be an expert on deafness or ASL. I also am NOT exploiting ANYONE with a disability in ANY way, shape or form! I _will_ be doing extensive research for this story when it comes to what hearing loss is like, as well as how to sign certain words. I just wanted to let you all know that now. Also, if anyone out there is deaf or hearing impaired, or knows someone who is, leave a comment and let me know; I'm kinda curious to see how many people relate to Elijah.**

**I hope you've enjoyed this first chapter! Favorite and follow to keep updated on new chapters, and feel free to leave a review with your thoughts.**

**I do NOT own The Lord of the Rings, Noises Off, All Creatures Great and Small, James Herriot, or Gargoyles in ANY way, shape or form.**

**-aggiefrogger**


	2. Chapter 2

**Welcome back, Readers!  
**

**Not much to say about this chapter, besides it's the second one, and I hope you enjoy it!**

**Note: Conversations in sign language will be written in italics, as well as words that are lipread. I'll usually say when someone is signing/lip-reading, but just a heads up..**

* * *

**A Monster Calls:**

A week after moving in with his uncle, Elijah was waiting for something exciting to happen.

Back in Galveston, there was _always_ something to do; there was the boardwalk, the historic downtown full of museums and shops (not that he shopped; he just looked in the windows), and even a large candy store modeled after a 1920's parlour that had daily taffy pulling. And, of course, there was the beach that stretched out the whole 27 mile length of the island, bordering the muddy-brown water of the Gulf of Mexico. Add that to the occasional hurricane or tropical storm every few years, life was never boring.

New York state was the exact opposite. New York City was probably an interesting place, but the teen wouldn't know, since they lived several miles North of the city, the bright lights a mere spec in the distance. His Uncle Jeffrey had mentioned a small town that was nearby, but the most interesting it had there was a recently built supermarket. There was the ocean and private beach about forty yards or so away from the back of the house, but it was so different from the crowded, littered, crazy beach back home, he hadn't gone out there yet.

Since his uncle slept in most of the morning, Elijah was able to explore the rest of the house undisturbed, hoping to find some sort of locked room or mystery that could occupy his time. However, he was surely disappointed with his findings; there were no locked rooms, no hidden passageways in the library, and the attic was just a dusty storage space. The only interesting place he found was a railed balcony accessible from one of the empty guest rooms, and he sometimes sat up there, staring out at the ocean in the distance.

His Uncle Jeffrey was obviously trying hard to make sure that his time here was enjoyable. He took him to the town one day, and they rented an old movie (_Clue; _one of the teen's favorites), but besides that, they didn't do much. The blind author spent most of the time in his library, pouring over large volumes as he used some sort of Braille typing machine and a tape recorder to take notes. The teen, having finished his uncle's book by now, was free to read his favorite genre of books: mysteries. His uncle had several volumes in the library, but the majority of them were in Braille; besides, the place smelled of aging paper, leather, and something that reminded the teen of the construction sites back in Galveston. He needed _something_ to happen, or else he'd die of boredom.

That interesting something happened near the end of the week. The computer in his room was equipped with a webcam, and he was finally able to call one of his old friends back home; June, his only deaf friend from his neighborhood. When her face appeared on the screen, he couldn't help but grin as he waved his hand at her; she was fully deaf, so she didn't have hearing aids, which was why they were communicating via ASL and webcam. Unlike him, she went to school online, using her computer and webcam to communicate with a teacher while he had gone to the regular public school.

_"You're alive,"_ she said, her hands in thumbs up, lifting them slightly from her waist to her chest, a smile on her face. _"I can't believe it's only been a week; it feels like forever since I last saw you! How was the flight?"_

_"Long,"_ he replied, dragging his right index finger along his left forearm. _"But interesting; I got to see the skyline of New York City on my way to my Uncle's house."_

_"Does he live in the City?"_

_"No. He lives by himself in some mansion by the sea several miles North of the City," _he explained. _"Though it's not as interesting as you'd think; there's no creepy rooms, dead bodies in the closets, or hidden passageways."_

_"Isn't he a famous author or something,"_ she asked, giving him a questioning expression.

"_Yeah, and a Vietnam vet. And a Purple Heart recipient. AND blind, too; he may have even won a Pulitzer Prize, I don't even know. He mainly fantasy novels, so they're not exactly my forte, but I've read some of them in case he asks me about them."_

"_Still prefer mysteries?"_

He grinned. _"You know me!"_

June shook her head, but she was smiling as well. _"Is your uncle nice, at least?"_

_"He's nice, I guess; at least for someone who hasn't been a part of my life for a long time. It was kinda freaky at first, since he wears those blind people glasses all the time, but he's pretty normal besides that. He works most of the day, though."_

_ "On a new novel?"_

_ "I think so; he spends all day in the library doing research and taking notes."_

_"Well don't be an introvert,"_ she chastised him, giving him a slight frown. _"You live there now, and you haven't known this guy you're whole life. I say you should open up to him."_

_"He's a **stranger,**"_ Elijah argued back, making a 'C' hand near his face before bringing both hands down in a straight line in front of him. _"And it's awkward just being in the same room with him! We only really talk at meals, but what do you say to someone who'd never made an effort to visit you in the past fifteen years of your life?"_

_"Wasn't that because your dad was mad at him or something?"_

_ "Or because he was mad at my dad; __**I**__ don't know which is true! And even if it was my dad's fault, my uncle made no effort to try and call or visit or write!"_

_ "You're just gonna have to make the most of it,"_ she told him, giving him a small smile. _"Things'll get better for you."_

_"You're probably right. That reminds me,"_ he added, _"how're things at home?"_

June's face grew dark, and her hands trembled as she signed her reply. _"Better, I guess. Jerry's still..."_ She lowered her fingers, her face full of sadness. Her older brother had cancer, and was currently undergoing chemotherapy; he was a cool guy, and Elijah had looked up to him as a roll model before he was diagnosed a year-and-a-half ago.

_"I'm sorry,"_ the boy replied. _"Any… any improvement?"_

_"Some,"_ she replied, _"but he's still far from getting better."_

They were both silent for a bit, neither of them signing anything. _"Well,"_ Elijah finally spoke up, not comfortable with talking about death at the moment, _"I better be going now."_

_"Why,"_ she asked, giving him a sly grin, all sadness gone from her face. _"Got another friend up there already?"_

_"As if,"_ he replied, rolling his eye. _"The nearby town/village is quite a walk from here, and school doesn't start until early September up here. But it's lunch time here, and Uncle J-E-F-F-R-E-Y is a pretty decent cook."_ He finger spelled his uncle's name so she could tell how it was spelled; most deaf people had a specific unique sign for their own name and those for other people they were friends with, but he hadn't come up with one for his uncle yet.

_"It starts in SEPTEMBER?! That's crazy!"_ She looked off screen, signing something to someone behind the camera before turning back to him. _"Gotta go; we're going to the Boardwalk today."_

_"You mock my pain,"_ he signed dramatically, both of them laughing at the movie reference. _"Talk to you later?"_

_"E-mail me,"_ she told him. _"Bye!"_

_"Bye!"_ He disconnected the camera, feeling more miserable and alone since he'd arrived. He knew he'd probably wait a while before talking to her again, and he looked out the window at the gathering storm clouds; it looked like a New England storm was on the way.

_Funny,_ he thought a few moments later, turning off the computer and heading towards the stairs to get some lunch, _I don't remember seeing that gargoyle statue on the wall before._

..

Later that night, the promised storm arrived, sending torrents of rain and wind to the earth, several waves crashing on the beach outside. It was pretty interesting at how quickly the storm had descended upon them, and Elijah couldn't help but be reminded of one of those mystery novels: "It was a dark and stormy night…"

Though it wasn't night yet; it was only seven thirty, but the sky was pretty dark, blocking out the sun. It was almost mesmerizing to watch, and he stared out the glass-paned door of the library, starting a little as a giant arc of lighting crossed the sky. They'd eaten pizza for dinner, ordered form a place in the village, and he couldn't help but feel sorry for the poor delivery driver that had to make his way through this squall.

"Do you have storms like this in Texas," Jeffrey asked, sitting nearby, his fingers moving swiftly across the page of the book he was reading.

"Sometimes," the boy replied. "We've had hurricanes and Tropical storms, but we usually go up North if things get too bad. You get used to it."

"Any bad ones recently?"

"Not really."

"Hmm," his uncle muttered, feeling the watch on his wrist, "Hudson should be here soon; shame to have to travel in this weather." He got up from his chair. "Care to join us this evening?"

"I'm good," the teen said quickly. "I may watch a movie in the living room, though."

"And I suppose you don't want us to bother you," the blind man asked, giving him a small smile. "You know, we're not just old fuddy-duddies; we can tell when someone's avoiding us."

The teen's cheeks flushed a little, and he couldn't help but look guilty. "I… I didn't _m-mean_ it like-"

"I understand," his uncle said genially, nodding and grabbing his cane. "I'm going to make some snacks; would you like some as well?"

"You don't have to-"

"I don't mind," he said kindly, leaving the room.

Elijah sighed, turning back towards the storm outside, watching more lightning arch across the sky. Sure, it was probably rude of him to keep skipping meeting his uncle's friend each night, but he didn't really have any desire to meet anyone else right now. Besides, he never even saw a glance of this guy; he never came downstairs whenever the man was here, he had never seen a picture of the guy. _And,_ now that he thought about it, he had never even seen a car pull up at the front of the house, and had never heard the front door open. Maybe the guy came in through the back door, which would explain why Elijah had never seen-

A sudden thought came to him, and he looked outside again. The teen squinted in the rain, noticing that the gate leading to the walled-in back driveway was closed, which meant that when this Hudson guy showed up in his car, he wouldn't be able to get in.

"Great," the boy muttered, knowing what he'd have to do, but he knew it was the right thing to do. He didn't have a coat, but he resolved to be quick, taking out his hearing aids so they wouldn't get wet. Bracing himself, he quickly opened the door, closing it behind him as he stepped outside.

He was instantly soaked, and it was kind of eerie, not being able to hear the thunder above him, nor the pattering of the raindrops. He could feel the vibrations, however, and he quickly dashed across the back yard/driveway area, heading towards the gate. Reaching it, he fumbled at the latch, unlocking it as the gates swung open in the wind, nearly knocking him over. Noticing he needed to attach the open gates to the walls so they wouldn't swing back in, he walked towards the first one, bending down to attach it to the wall hook.

Suddenly, something struck him on the arm, and he fell back in surprise, giving a cry of pain as he looked at a long cut that appeared on his arm. Looking around, he noticed a long, jagged piece of something that looked like concrete lying nearby, a few smaller ones around to him. Elijah frowned; he knew that those things weren't there before, and picking up one of the pieces, he looked up, staring at something even more confusing.

The gargoyle statue, the one he'd noticed for the first time earlier, was gone.

For a second, he stared at the empty space, wondering if he'd only imagined the stone figure earlier, but then another thought struck him.

_Crap,_ he thought, looking back down at the stone piece in his hand. _Did the storm blow it over? Did it break? I need to tell his Uncle Jeffrey, just in case it-_

He turned around, slammed into something, and fell to the ground. Groaning, wondering if the gate had somehow swung around and hit him, he gaped at the figure in front of him, not sure if he was imagining things or not.

_Well,_ he grimly thought to himself, _you **wanted** things to be more interesting around here._

What could be more interesting than a real-life monster standing in front of you?

..

This was what he got for wishing for something interesting to happen; now there was a gargoyle in front of him. It was definitely the same one he'd seen as a statue earlier, but he couldn't understand why it was suddenly alive, towering over him.

It was big, maybe six feet tall, and a little heavyset as well. It wore a rough tunic-like shirt, along with a loincloth around its waist; Elijah noticed that a sword hung form its belt as well. It had tan-colored skin, along with long white hair, including a beard, and the teen assumed it was older. This was confirmed with some wrinkles on its face, but his eyes were drawn to it's left eye, which had a long scar crossing it, the pupil itself yellow and pale. He also noticed that the gargoyle had mini horns on either side of its head, as well as the long claws on the monster's hands and bare feet. However, the most prominent feature was its wings; they were large, bat-like, and nearly as tall as the creature itself; a tail poked out from behind the creature.

The boy gasped, scrambling back a few feet in an effort to get away, panicking when his back hit the stone wall behind him. Of course, he wasn't expecting the stone monster to suddenly come to life, so he wasn't sure what it wanted, or if it even ate humans. The fact that he couldn't hear anything that was happening around him made this worse, and probably explained why it was able to sneak up on him.

"S-Stay b-b-back," he stammered, holding up the jagged piece of concrete in his hand, now soaked to the skin from the rain, shivering out of fear and the cold.

He suddenly noticed an outside light turn on, and he looked around the gargoyle, noticing the lights near the library door had turned on, illuminating some of the raindrops as they fell. The door opened, and his Uncle Jeffrey poked his head out, his mouth opening in a way that indicated yelling; probably his name. The gargoyle turned towards the blind man, and the teen realized that it might go after his uncle, his legal guardian, and he knew he couldn't let that happen, no matter how much he disliked the man

"UNCLE JEFFREY GET BACK INSIDE," Elijah yelled, hoping his uncle could hear him over the sound of the storm around him. "LOCK THE DOOR GET BACK INSIDE!" He then stared in horror as his uncle, seeming to had not heard his cries, call Gilly to his side, stick his cane out in front of him, and step into the rain.

"NO," the boy yelled, tossing the bit of concrete at the distracted monster, scrambling to his feet and running towards his uncle. "GET BACK INSIDE!"

_"-ere are you,"_ he saw his uncle saying once he got close enough, walking slowly across the ground. When he reached the blind man, he stumbled to a stop, and, perhaps hearing him, the author grabbed his arm for support.

"We gotta get back inside," the boy told him, trying to pull him towards the door.

_"What's going on-"_ Jeffrey was still trying to say something.

"Just come with me there's a-"

A shadow moved nearby, and Elijah felt something swipe his feet out from under him, sending him tumbling to the ground. Landing hard on his back, the air rushed out of him, and for a short while, he struggled to breathe as he stared at the stormy sky above him, blinking raindrops from his eyes. Eventually catching his breath, he sat up, and saw the strangest thing he'd ever seen, more so than the gargoyle statue suddenly coming to life.

The said monster was helping his uncle to his feet, saying something to him as he bent down and picked up the blind author's cane, handing it to him. Gilly, instead of growling or acting scared, actually appeared to be barking at the creature in a friendly manner, walking around its legs. The teen squinted through the rain, trying to catch what they were saying, but they weren't facing him, which made it harder, though he noticed that the winged gargoyle didn't look mad or threatening at all.

_"-ad no idea he was standing there,"_ the monster was saying.

_"It's fine. Did he have his-"_

_"No-"_

They both turned towards him, and the boy froze, wondering what was happening, wondering why the world had gone crazy. Then his Uncle Jeffrey walked over towards him, using his cane to guide him until he tapped the teen's foot, stooping down and looking a little over the teen's left shoulder.

_"Elijah,"_ his uncle said clearly and slowly, allowing the teen to read his lips. _"Can you hear me?"_

"N-No," Elijah replied, his voice probably louder and off-pitch because he couldn't hear, teeth chattering in the cold. "I t-t-took my hearing aids off so they wouldn't get wet." He shot a quick glance at the gargoyle, then turned back to his uncle. "There's a mon-"

_"I know,"_ the blind man interrupted him. _"He's my friend. Let's go inside; I probably have some explaining to do."_ He held out his hand, and the boy took it, climbing to his feet and staring at the gargoyle, the pieces starting to fall together. But... how? However, when the winged creature bent down to pet Gilly, he gasped. They way the monster had helped Jeffrey, Gilly's obvious trust in the creature, and the "friend comment" … it suddenly made sense.

"You… you're Hudson?"

The gargoyle simply nodded solemnly, the rain continuing to fall around the trio as the teen stared at him in shock.

* * *

**Finally, Elijah and Hudson meet! The next chapter's gonna focus on their actual meeting and talk with one another, so keep your eye out for it!**

**Favorite and follow to keep yourselves updated on new chapters, and feel free to drop a review with your thoughts and comments on the story.**

**Have a great day!**

**I do NOT own _Clue_ or A Monster Calls in ANY way, shape or form.**

**-aggiefrogger**


	3. Chapter 3

**Hey, Readers and Gargoyle Fans! Happy New Year!**

**It's crazy how fast time flies when you're writing stories! I hope that you all had some Happy Holidays and a Happy New Year! **

**Well, as promised, here's Chapter Three of the FF! Enjoy!**

**-aggiefrogger**

* * *

**Explanations and First Impressions:**

**Hudson POV:**

Hudson's first impressions of Elijah Robbins were confused, to say the least. The lad obviously cared about his uncle enough to try to protect him in a moment of crisis, but seemed to shun the man afterwards, as well as becoming extremely quiet and withdrawn. However, he realized that the boy probably wasn't expecting to meet a gargoyle this particular evening, just like he wasn't expecting Robbins to know his secret, so he could understand if the boy was a little distressed.

Now, as the three of them dried off in the library, he got his first good look at the boy that his friend had told him so much about. In a way, he looked almost identical to Jeffery, despite the age difference; the same squarish chin, the same slight skinny build, and even the same short hair. Of course, Elijah wasn't blind, so he didn't need to wear sunglasses, and his bright blue eyes scanned the room, mainly focused on him. The teen had dried his head and ears off carefully before putting in his hearing aids; Hudson saw that it was almost like the earpieces that Goliath and the others sometimes wore to keep in contact with one another on missions, but it curled around the teen's outer ear, a small dial allowing him to turn it on and off. He couldn't imagine what it must be like, having machines in your ears to help you hear, but if the teen found it uncomfortable, he said nothing. The aged gargoyle, having dried off as best as he could, sat in his regular armchair by the fire, a towel resting on the seat beneath him. The teen sat in his uncle's armchair, still giving Hudson a wary look, a large blanket wrapped around his shoulders and a bandage around the cut on his arm.

"I'm sorry you two had to meet this way," Jeffrey Robbins was saying, handing Hudson a cup of hot chocolate (they had hot chocolate whenever it war raining or snowing, but they usually had iced tea most evenings; Robbins was an expert at making it), holding out another mug for his nephew to take, which he did. "Of course, part of the blame is probably on me by not telling you that Hudson was a gargoyle beforehand, but I didn't wish to scare you."

"Yeah, that probably would've been good to mention," the teen said annoyedly, then looked over at the gargoyle, as if scared that he might get mad at his comment.

"Aye, though part of the blame falls on me; I should've told ye that I was a gargoyle long ago. Though I'm still curious as ta why ye never said that ye knew what I really was," the gargoyle asked.

"Probably the same reason you never told me yourself," the blind author countered. "It wasn't the right time, but I guess there's no time like the present.

"I'm sorry again fer not tellin' ye," Hudson replied. "But, if I may ask, how'd ye find out?"

"I deduced it after that mysterious broadcast last November; reports of people turning to stone at night, along with flying creatures only out at night. Plus, there were other factors as well."

"Like what," Elijah asked, looking at his uncle so he didn't have to look at the gargoyle.

"He only visited at night, he refused to shake my hand, and he smelled-"

"-Like concrete," the boy finished, cautiously turning back to the older gargoyle. "And old leather. I thought this room just smelled like that on its own."

"Is it a bad smell combination," Hudson asked, wondering if it was somehow unpleasant.

"N-No," the youth said quickly, quailing under the gargoyle's gaze. "I just… wasn't sure how it had gotten here."

"I'm not goin' ta hurt ye, lad," the gargoyle said gently, leaning forward a little in his seat. "Yer uncle's been kind ta me and my Clan, and I would never harm him or any relative of his after all he's done fer me. And I apolagize fer scarin' ye, lad," the gargoyle told him, smiling a little to show that he was non-threatening. "I wasn't expectin' ye ta be there when I woke up."

_"Woke up,"_ the teen asked.

"Our kind turns ta stone during the day," the gargoyle explained as Robbins sat down on the couch with his own cup of cocoa, Gilly lying by his feet. "Gargoyles are nocturnal, meaning we are awake at night, which is why I only come ta visit during the evenings."

"And that's why I didn't notice him earlier," Elijah spoke up, still looking at Hudson as if he were a ghost. "I saw him… the statue him… earlier today."

"Aye," the aged gargoyle nodded. "Usually, I try to fly back to my Clan in Manhattan, but our talk ran a little late last night, so I needed a place to roost before sunrise."

"Clan?"

"There's a group of us in Manhattan, along with several others around the world."

The boy's eyes widened a little. "Woah… that... doesn't sound possible."

"They're real," Jeffrey spoke up. "Though he and his Clan have been in hiding."

"But if you're from New York, why do you sound Scottish," the teen spoke up, turning back to the gargoyle.

"Our Clan's originally from Scotland," Hudson explained. "Nearly all of us were slaughtered in 994 AD, and those that survived, myself included, were cursed to remain stone until our castle rose above the clouds."

"Wati, _'cursed?'_ Like… with magic?"

"Aye."

He looked at his uncle, then back at the gargoyle. "But magic isn't real!"

"Yet here ye are, talkin' to a gargoyle," the old warrior replied, arching an eyebrow at the youth, who quickly looked down at his mug, embarrassed. "David Xanatos brought the castle here to America, piece by piece, rebuilding it on top of his skyscraper. With the castle now above the clouds, we were free, awakening to find ourselves in a new century." It was weird, telling this story again, since he'd already told it to Jeffrey long ago, but the lad seemed interested, looking back up from his cup to give him another nervous, yet curious, look.

"H-How'd you two meet," Elijah finally asked. "Manhattan's quite a distance from here."

"Hudson actually washed up on the beach one night, seeking asylum from the cold," Jeffrey said, staring blankly at the fire in front of him.

"And you just let him into your home," the teen asked. "You probably didn't know he was a gargoyle then, but that doesn't sound smart. He could've killed you or robbed you or..." He noticed the gargoyle's gaze, and went quiet.

Hudson was taken aback by the teen's accusations, knowing that it would probably be a while before the kid trusted him. "I've sworn ta protect the innocent; I wouldn't hurt anyone unless they were threatenin' me, my Clan, or my friends, and only then out of self-defense. Yer uncle has been nothin' but kind ta me and my clan, and is the least deserving of any attack."

"Well, forgive me if I don't immediately put my life in your hands," the boy said sarcastically, ushering in a few moments of silence as he took a sip of his hot chocolate.

"Well," Jeffrey suddenly spoke up, rising from his seat, "I don't know about you two, but I'm feeling a bit peckish. I'll go get us some snacks."

The teen nearly choked mid-sip, coughing as he gave his uncle a panicked look as he realized he'd be alone in the room with Hudson. "Right now? Do you need any hel-"

"I'm fine," the blind man assured him, calling Gilly to his side. "I'll be back in a few minutes." He closed the door on that note, leaving Hudson with the deaf nephew.

* * *

**Elijah POV:**

For a second, Elijah wondered if his uncle had really just left him alone in a room with a possibly dangerous gargoyle, despite the man telling him that Hudson was friendly. Now, staring at the closed library door, he started to wonder if the blind man was actively trying to kill him. That, and the fact that the gargoyle had knocked him to the ground earlier did little to make him feel safe.

"I hope he brings those cracker things," Hudson spoke up, causing the teen to jump and turn back to him. The gargoyle still sat in his armchair, staring at him with an almost curious expression. "Those are my favorite." The boy didn't reply, still giving him a wary look, hoping the creature wasn't annoyed with his comment from a minute ago. The aged monster sighed. "Again, I'm not going ta hurt ye; if anythin', I'd like to consider ye a friend."

"What if I don't want to be your friend," Elijah countered, now frowning at the winged creature; why couldn't he just be left alone? He'd make friends on his own time... maybe.

"I doubt that."

"And why's that?"

"I've been among humans fer well over a hundred years. Yer kind, like gargoyles, need companionship in your lives; whether it's family, friends, or loved ones, ye can't be alone forever. Seeing as how yer friends are on the other side of the country, as well as yer isolation out here, you're probably already feelin' lonely."

The teen hid his surprise with a scoff, secretly wondering how the gargoyle could know all of this. "But you're not human, so do you _really_ know us that well?"

Hudson leaned back in his chair, looking thoughtful. "I can tell you're scare of me. Ye think I'm gonna attack ye at any second." Elijah shot a quick look at the creature's sword, then looked away, earning him a grim smile from the winged creature. "I can also tell you're hurtin'; I've lost loved ones before, including my bonded one, and right now, ye need as much friendship as you can get."

The boy stared at the monster in shock, the words having hit him like a ton of bricks. It was so… so _accurate,_ he wondered if gargoyles were able to read minds. Either that, or the aged gargoyle was pretty smart. He quickly looked down at the mug in his hand, deciding to change the subject away from him. "So… your wife died?"

"Aye," the ex-warrior replied softly, a sad look crossing his face. "She was… an amazing gargoyle, and a fierce fighter. She died in battle; the noblest way ta go."

"I… I'm sorry to hear that," he replied awkwardly, not sure of what else he could or should say.

"It's fine; they never really leave ye, but it gets easier. I had my Rookery brothers and sisters to help me, and you have yer uncle to help ye through this troublin' time. If ye ever want to talk about it, I'd be happy ta-"

"I really don't want to talk about dead loved ones right now, if that's alright," Elijah interjected, determined not to think about his parents, looking at the little bit of hot chocolate that was left in his mug.

The winged monster was silent for a few moments, but eventually said, "Fine. Why don't ye lead the conversation, then?"

"You're over a thousand years old; what would I even talk about?"

"What about where you're from? Gal-vas-tan, if I recall it correctly?"

The boy couldn't help but give a small smile at the incorrect pronunciation, but quickly hid it. "Galveston. It's a large island off the coast of Texas, which is a state Southwest of here."

"It is part of the state, yes?"

The teen nodded, cautiously looking up again, noting that the gargoyle actually seemed interested in what he was saying. He shifted in his seat a little, trying not to slouch. "Yeah. It's not as big as Long Island here, but it's a pretty nice place to live; kinda a tourist trap, though."

"A what?"

"It's a, uh… how do I explain it? It's a place where humans visit during the summer and their vacations; there are shops, museums, and fun stuff to do for people to visit. Like… the Statue of Liberty; thousands of people visit it every year, and buy mini models of the statue and snow globes and whatever. That's a tourist trap."

"So your Galveston," Hudson asked, his brow furrowed in concentration, "is a place a lot of people visit, but… you live there?"

"Well, I_ did,_" the boy replied shortly, "but yeah, a lot of people live there because someone has to run the sunglasses kiosks and grocery stores and all the shops and museums that tourists and visitors visit. It gets really crowded in the summer, because of the heat and the beach space, but it quiets down in the fall and winter."

"Is it a beautiful place?"

Elijah thought of the muddy-brown water that smelled like sewage some times, the graffiti that covered the outside of most buildings and shops, and then how the island looked after a bad storm, with outside chairs and trees and debris scattered everywhere. "Yeah; it's a beautiful place. Though New York's pretty nice, I guess. I mean, it's a pretty place, but-"

"It's not home," the gargoyle asked, and the teen was surprised when he nodded in agreement. "It's the same fer me. Scotland's a beautiful country; full of rolling green hills, the air fresh and clean, and the number of stars in the sky are more numerous than those bright lights in Manhattan. I've heard, of course, that it has changed much since I've last been there, so I haven't gone back; I prefer to remember it the way it was."

"Probably what I'll do, too; I doubt I'll be going back home anytime soon."

The gargoyle shifted in his seat, then asked, "If I may ask you, though… how long have you been, ah…" He ran a hand across his pointed ear, and the teen instantly knew what the monster was implying, and hesitated, not sure if he should reply.

"Deaf?" The winged creature nodded, and Elijah, who usually disliked telling other people about the history of his disability, straightened in his chair; for some reason he couldn't explain, he wasn't annoyed by the monster's question, and figured he'd have to talk about it to someone new eventually. Plus, he didn't want to find out how far he could go refusing to answer the creature's questions before it attacked him. "I... I was born deaf; I mean, I could hear some sounds, but it got a lot worse the first few years after I was born, and I got my first hearing aids when I was five. I need to replace them every year or so as I keep growing, but they're mostly the same." He then remembered something else. "Sorry I couldn't hear what you were saying outside earlier; they're not exactly water-proof, so I had to take them out before going outside."

"Why _were _ye outside?"

"Because of you" The gargoyle raised his eyebrows in surprise, so the boy quickly explained. "My uncle said you were coming tonight, and since I didn't know you were a gargoyle, I assumed you were driving here in a car, so I went to go open the gate to the back driveway, and… you know the rest."

"Ye can remove those hearing aids," Hudson asked, staring at the teen's ears with a curious expression. "I mean, obviously ye can, but they aren't connected to yer brain?"

"Nope. The inside of our ears have these tiny hairs that react to and are receptors to sound, but mine don't work as well as a regular person's. The hearing aids basically turn the sound it receives into larger signals that the hairs can pick up, allowing me to hear. So naturally, when I turn it off or take them out, I can't hear; sound waves still enter my ears, but the ear hair doesn't pick it up."

_"'Sound waves?'"_

"Sound travels through the air in waves; think of it like ripples on a pond." That was the first example the Audiologist back in Texas had told him when he was five. "You disturb the water, it ripples out in tiny waves. That's what sound looks like, but it's invisible."

"Interestin'," the winged monster nodded. "Very interestin'. And ye speak that hand language… ASI?"

"ASL. American Sign Language. Basically there's a hand motion for every word, and I sign them like I'm speaking a sentence."

"That must be pretty hard to memorize them all."

"It is; there's still a few I don't know, but I don't sign that often, since I can still hear with my aids."

"I was gonna learn somethin' ta sign fer ye," Hudson told him, holding up one of his clawed hands. "But I couldn't, fer obvious reasons."

The boy counted the number of fingers, stopping at four. "Well, you could sign _some_ words, but not all of them, and you probably can't fingerspell."

"Fingerwhat?"

"It's basically the alphabet," he explained, holding up his right hand and signing the first few letters. "Most deaf people don't speak, because it's not really necessary when talking to other deaf people, but even with hearing people we don't talk because we can't hear how loud or pitchy our voices are. Of course, though, some are also born mute, so they can't speak even if they wanted to. So while regular people learned to sing the alphabet and stuff, I learned to sign it."

"You humans sure have thought of everythin'," Hudson commented. "I don't recall any gargoyle ever bein' deaf, but I don't know if we would've come up with somethin' as sophisticated as what ye have."

"It took years for them to come up with this system," the teen told him, finishing the last of his hot chocolate. "Also, they have sign language for different languages as well. British, German; almost every country's got their own version of it." He looked over at the library door. "I wonder where Uncle Jeffrey is…"

"Probably takin' his time," the old gargoyle told him, getting up from his chair and unfurling his wings and stretching his limbs. "He most likely wanted to give us time to get to know one another."

Elijah simply stared at the creature as he stretched his large bat-like wings, not helping but marvel at the sight of them. They were huge, probably with a wingspan of over twelve feet, the fire light shone opaquely through the skin membrane between the bones. However, he quickly looked away when Hudson noticed him staring, realizing he was probably being rude; he knew that he hated it when people stared at his hearing aids, so he figured that it was probably the same with a gargoyle's wings.

"It's fine," Hudson spoke up, settling his wings against his back. "I'm used ta it by now."

"Sorry… I didn't mean to be rude-"

"Sometimes ye just can't help _but_ notice," the winged monster told him. "I mean, my wings are a part of me, and given their size, humans are goin' ta notice and stare at them. I chose not to let it bother me."

"Wish I could do that," the boy muttered.

"Ye can," the gargoyle told him kindly. "It just takes practice and self-control." His wings folded around him, almost like he was wearing a cloak, and he sat back down in his chair. "But I can tell ye have questions of yer own, so don't be shy; ask away."

_How does he keep doing that,_ Elijah thought, shifting in his seat, a little uncomfortable, but less so compared to earlier. "I was just wondering, uh, why you have a sword. Does the rest of your Clan have weapons?"

"Nay, just me. I'm older than the rest of them, and I'm not as quick as I once was, so I use this to even the odds against a foe. But again, we only fight if absolutely necessary, as a last resort." He raised an eyebrow at the boy. "I assume it makes ye nervous."

"A little bit, but not so much anymore."

"And why is that?"

"I dunno… I probably _should_ be more nervous, but you don't seem very, uh…"

"Dangerous," Hudson asked, a small smile on his face. "Because I'm so old?"

"No," the teen said quickly. "I was just-" He cut off as the gargoyle started to laugh a little. The boy sighed. "You're messing with me, are you?"

"Aye, lad. Humor existed well before this century, I assure ye."

"Well, you _are_ old, if you've been alive since before 994 AD. But I don't doubt your skill with a sword."

"Afraid I'd prove you wrong?"

"Something like that." At that, Elijah gave a real smile for the first time since meeting Hudson; since arriving in New York, even. Maybe a new friend wouldn't be so bad; it's not like he was going to make any friends in the nearby town, anyways. "But I only have one more question."

"Aye?"

"What happened to your eye?"

The gargoyle leaned back in his seat a little. "Now _that,_" he stated, "is a story fer another time."

At that moment, the library door opened, and Jeffrey Robbins decided to make his reappearance, holding a tray with a plate of cracker snacks on it.

"Sorry for the delay," he apologized, putting the tray on a nearby table. "Took me a while to find the right snack; it'd been moved from its regular spot." The teen blinked at that, remembering moving around the snacks in search for some chips earlier that day.

"That's okay," Hudson replied, getting up from his seat to help the blind man back to his seat. "Elijah and I were just gettin' acquainted with one another."

"Really," Uncle Jeffrey answered with mild interest, sitting back on the couch as the winged creature brought the tray of snacks to the more central table so they could all enjoy it. "I've only been gone for a few minutes."

"Y-Yeah," Elijah spoke up, looking over at the gargoyle. "Hudson's pretty cool, I guess. I mean, he's over a thousand years old and turns to stone during the day. And he's your best friend… am I _really_ not imagining this?"

"Technically, I'm 119, given the spell," the aged gargoyle spoke up.

"And you're not imagining things," his uncle told him, petting Gilly on the head. "Now, Hudson and I were going to continue reading in here if you'd care to join us; we're currently reading James Herriot's _All Creatures Great and Small._"

"Maybe not tonight," the teen replied quickly, getting up from his chair. "Besides, I'm more into mysteries and that kinda stuff."

"Well we're finishing the book tonight, so you could chose the next book if you'd like to join us Thursday night."

"I dunno," the boy said, frantically thinking of an excuse to not have to join them; while Hudson _was_ pretty cool, he still wasn't keen on spending time with his uncle. "I mean, most of the books I read aren't exactly at a high reading level-"

"I don't mind," Hudson spoke up. "Yer uncle's the one that taught me to read, though I still struggle sometimes. And I wouldn't mind a change of genre and skill." He glanced over at the blind author. "No offence, Robbins."

"None taken," the blind man replied. "I also wouldn't mind a change, either."

"Then what would ye choose to read, if ye had the choice," the winged monster asked the teen, giving him an expectant look.

Elijah stared at the two adults, knowing he was caught; even the old gargoyle had arched an eyebrow, as if wondering what kind of lame excuse he'd come up with to not join them. There was no excuse that he could think of, however, so he sighed and said, "I dunno… I like _The Westing Game_; it's been one of my favorites since I was a kid."

"By Ellen Raskin," Jeffrey replied, earning him a surprised look from the boy. "It won the Newbery Medal in 1979, if I recall correctly. Have you read any of her other works?"

"N-Not really," the teen replied, stunned by his uncle's knowledge of this random author.

"I suggest you read her other mystery novel, _The Tattooed Potatoe and Other Clues,_ after we finish _The Westing Game._"

"Wait," Elijah spoke up, suddenly realizing he had an excuse. "Do you have copies of tbe book, because if not, then you'll probably have to order a Braille copy, which probably takes a long ti-"

"No need fer that," Hudson spoke up. "I usually read out loud to work on my pronunciation and so on, and so we can read books outside of Jeffrey's non-Braille collection. We can read from yer copy Thursday; ye probably have one if it's yer favorite, and as fer the other one, we can always find it at a library; Elisa probably could help with that."

"Who?"

"A friend of ours; she works for the New York Police Department as a detective."

"Fine, then," the boy said exasperatedly, giving up on trying to come up with an excuse. "But I'll go now; I gotta return that movie tomorrow, so I'm gonna watch it one last time." He made his way towards the door, then stopped, turning to the gargoyle. "Uh… thanks for the talk. Sorry for thinking you were bad and all that earlier, so…" He awkwardly held out his hand, unsure if he was being _too_ chummy, but the winged creature shook it cordially; his hand was rough and calloused, and the teen was grateful that the claws didn't shred his hand.

"Nice meetin' ye, lad," Hudson replied, giving him a small smile. "Look forward ta readin' yer story. Sorry fer the scare."

"No problem. Goodnight." Elijah then turned towards the blind man. "Goodnight, Uncle Jeffrey," he said stiffly, keeping his voice even and professional.

"Goodnight, Elijah. Don't stay up too late."

"I won't." He then pet Gilly on the head, turned towards the door, and left the room, closing the large wooden door behind him.

_What have I gotten myself into,_ he wondered, dazedly making his way down the hall towards the living room. Things finally get interesting around here, but now I'm stuck spending time with my uncle.

"But at least there's still the chance that it was all a bad dream," he told himself, finally finding the tape in the living room and turning it on. "I mean; gargoyles being real. I _must _be seeing things!"

* * *

**Jeffrey POV:**

Jeffrey heard the library door close a few feet behind the couch, and he gave a heavy sigh, clutching the cane in his hand.

"Was it too awkward, dealing with him," the blind man asked. "Sorry for leaving you two in here alone for so long; I knew I couldn't make him like you, but I figured that you'd probably get a start."

"It wasn't bad," he heard Hudson say, hearing the gargoyle's footsteps move towards the nearby armchair, followed by the chair legs scraping slightly against the ground, indicating that his friend had sat down. "Took him a while to trust me, but I think we'll be good friends one day." The old gargoyle hesitated before speaking again. "He's hurtin' pretty bad, though."

"I know."

"Do ye think it's a good idea, forcin' him ta spend time with us?"

"I'm not sure what else I can do; I _want_ to have a relationship with my nephew. He's the only person that's left of Joseph, and after not doing anything for over fifteen years, I-" He stopped, clutching his cane as if it were a life-line, his eyes stinging a little with brimming tears as he remembered his younger brother. He turned in the general direction of his winged friend a few moments later, trying to get his emotions under control. "What… what does he look like?"

"A lot like ye, if I'm bein' honest," Hudson told him. "Same hair, same chin, same stature, though he's a little skinnier and shorter than you."

"What about his eyes? What color are they?"

"Blue."

"Like the sky," Jeffrey muttered to himself; his and his sister's eyes were green, but their only brother had blue eyes. Blue ones that lit up whenever he laughed, that looked like the sky on a brilliant summer's day…

He cleared his throat, standing up from his seat and slowly making his way over to where the bookshelf was, feeling the spines until he found the right book. "Where were we?"

"I believe Chapter Sixty-Three."

"Good," he replied, opening the book to the ribbon bookmark, ready to focus on the plights of others, instead of himself.

* * *

**And that's it for this chapter!**

**I hope you enjoyed the chapter and the story so far! Please follow and/or favorite if you want to stay updated on new chapters and stories, and feel free to leave a review with your comments and thoughts on the story and chapter!**

**Have a great day, and a Happy New Year to you all!**

**Note: I do NOT own All Creatures Great and Small or James Herriot in ANY way, shape or form!**


	4. Chapter 4

**Hey Readers!**

**A Happy New Year to you all! Quick shout-out to emyy250, the first person to follow and favorite this story! Thank you for your support and this chapter's dedicated to you!**

**Anyways, if you're new here, then welcome, and get ready for Chapter Four, 'cause it's about to get MAJORLY 90's in here! ****Enjoy!**

* * *

**Blockbuster Bust and Brooklyn:**

The afternoon after meeting Hudson, Elijah made his way to the nearby town (using one of his uncle's old bikes in the garage), biking along the road that snaked parallel to the beach. The ground was still wet, and clouds still covered the sky, but there was no forecast for rain. He needed something to distract him from the fact that his uncle was friends with a gargoyle that was in hiding with a bunch of others, so he figured he'd go return the rented tape and get another one.

New York City was a little over five miles away, visible in the distance, but he biked in the opposite direction, heading towards the closer seaside town of Weisman, New York. It was a picturesque little town, reminding him a little bit of Cabot Cove from _Murder She Wrote,_ though he wished it at least had an arcade or something. But it had a Blockbuster, which was his current destination as he biked through the streets, the rented tape in his knapsack.

He parked his bike in front of the store, chained it to a nearby street lamp, and entered the store, immediately hit with the smell of candy, buttered popcorn, carpet, and VHS plastic (which had its own unique smell, it seemed). The interior of the store had that familiar blue carpet that covered the majority of the floor, and the overhead florescent lights were at their maximum brightness, despite the sun coming in through the windows. Rows of shelves full of tapes were lined around the store, organized by genre and popularity. In the center of the store, near the front door, was the pentagonal check out desk where a lone attendant was helping a woman check out some tapes and popcorn. Near the counter was a shelf full of candy, microwave popcorn, and gift cards, catching one's eye whenever you approached the counter.

Shivering at the blast of AC that assaulted him (it was hot outside but nothing compared to a Summer's day in Texas), he walked into the store, sliding the tape into the drop off slot on one side of the counter. Looking around, he browsed the new releases for a few minutes, seeing if there was anything interesting out on tape. He then made his way towards the mystery section of the store, grateful that this Blockbuster had an almost identical layout to the one back in Galveston. Walking over to the shelf, he scanned the row of tapes, not finding any good new videos, so moving towards the older ones, trying to decide if he should rent one he'd never seen, or if he should rent one of his favorites.

"Do you _really_ think he's deaf?"

The teen stiffened a little at the sound of the whisper, but he decided not to turn around, ignoring whoever was speaking as he looked over the selection of titles. One would think that he'd be used to people talking about him behind his back, but he still hated it. He also didn't understand why people, upon seeing hearing aids in his ears, thought he somehow couldn't hear a word they were saying. At least back at home, if people whispered, they didn't do it around him.

"Probably. Must be new too; I've never seen him at school before."

_So they're teens,_ Elijah thought, finally finding a movie (_The Maltese Falcon_) which looked interesting, turning the case over to read the back.

"What do we do if he needs help," the first voice asked, this one female. "I mean, we're supposed to see how customers are doing; should I just leave him alone?"

"I would," her friend replied, this one male. "It's not like he'd notice you if you didn't."

"Oh I wouldn't say _that,_" the Texan finally spoke up, straightening up and finally turning to face the two teens. "I think my eyesight's pretty good, thank you."

They obviously worked here; both wore blue polo shirts with name tags, along with tan shorts (probably due to the heat). The boy was tall, wore glasses, and had a pale face full of pimples that was currently gaping in shock, looking like he'd seen a ghost. The girl, meanwhile, was a little shorter than Elijah, had long curly hair, and a face dotted with freckles. Her expression was also a mixture of surprise and embarrassment, her cheeks going red as she realized that he had heard their comments.

"You do realize that hearing aids _help_ people hear, right," Elijah continued, not really in the mood to deal with these two idiotic Blockbuster employees. "It's not a fashion statement to get us more attention."

"I am _so sorry,_" the girl, whose name tag read Amanda, said in a loud whisper, looking like she was going to cry. "I didn't mean-"

"Yeah, well don't worry," the deaf teen assured them. "I don't need any help finding anything. My eyes work perfectly fine, thank you."

"Are you gonna tell our boss," the boy, Brian asked, pushing his slipping glasses up the bridge of his nose. "'Cause I don't wanna get in trouble-"

"Really," Amanda chastised, rounding on her friend. "How could you be so insensitive?"

"I don't need your help," Elijah snapped at her, glaring at the two workers. "And as for telling your boss, that's _my_ decision, not yours. But here's a quick ASL lesson for you two in case you think I'm too dumb to express my emotions."

He showed them a certain finger before turning away, walking with the tape down the aisle, smiling a little at the memory of their shell-shocked expressions. While he hated people treating him like he was an idiot, he enjoyed showing them up and making them feel like the fool. Though he _did_ feel a little bad about flipping them off. Reaching the check-out desk, he handed the middle-aged woman the tape, reaching for his pocket to grab his wallet, feeling nothing.

"Sir!" He turned around to find the girl he'd just told off coming towards him, holding out his wallet, refusing to look him in the eye; probably because she was still embarrassed. He gave an interior groan. "You… you dropped your wallet."

"Thanks," the teen replied, taking it to pay for his tape. Noticing she was still standing behind him, he turned back around, noticing she was wearing a worried expression. "Don't worry; I won't tell your boss."

"Tell me what," the woman behind the counter asked, looking over at the young girl with a hard expression. "Amanda, _please_ tell me you didn't drop another VCR on a customer's foot or something like that! Because you know what'll happen if you did!"

"Oh no, ma'am," Elijah spoke up, giving the young Blockbuster attendant a quick sideways glance, not sure why he was defending the girl who insulted him, but it was too late to go back now. "I'm deaf, you see, and I had turned off my hearing aids earlier; I biked here, and the wind noise is a little annoying." He turned his head to the side, allowing the woman (Janet) to see his hearing aid. And as for wind, it wasn't annoying, but she wouldn't know that. "I'd forgotten to turn them on when I came inside, and I accidentally bumped into her and knocked over a display."

"Funny; I didn't hear a display fall over," the middle-aged Janet commented.

"Well, neither did I, for obvious reasons. I helped Amanda here pick it up, and I guess she thought I might tell you about it. But I wasn't planning on it; I mean, she helped me find the movie I wanted."

Amanda quickly hid her surprised expression by quickly nodding, turning away in faux embarrassment; or it could've been real. The Texan wasn't really sure why he did what he did; he didn't know this girl from a nail in a wall, and he had nothing to gain by helping her. However, it was too late now, and Janet gave the girl a stern glance.

"Well, I can't blame you this time, but next time-"

"I know," she replied quickly, face still pink with shame. "Should I just-"

"Go sort through the new tapes in the back." The frightened girl quickly left after that, giving Elijah one last look before disappearing through a door.

"I'm so sorry sir," Janet told him graciously, checking out his tape. "She's only been here a month, and-"  
"No trouble ma'am," the teen replied, taking the tape, popcorn and receipt, putting it in his knapsack. "Thanks."

"Have a great day." As the boy made his way out the front door, he looked back inside the store, noticing the back door quickly close, as if someone was just spying on him from the other side.

_Whatever,_ he thought, going over to his bike and unlocking the chain. _Guess I'm not coming here again anytime soon._

And with that, he biked away from the store, heading towards the library; he needed to check to see if they had any good mystery novels, as well as check out that other Raskin novel his uncle had mentioned.

..

Thursday night, nearly half an hour after the sun had set, Elijah had finally resigned himself to the fact that he was stuck spending the evening with his uncle and the gargoyle Hudson. Of course, there was still that small doubt that he'd even _met_ a gargoyle earlier that week (he could've hit his head outside and imagined the whole thing), but when he saw his uncle bringing out three cups for iced tea, he knew that someone, or some_thing,_ was coming to visit. He was surprised, however, when he saw the blind man pull out his own braille copy of _The Westing Game._

"How did you get that?"

"I've had this for years," his Uncle Jeffrey replied. "How else did you think I knew so much about the book?"

"I dunno… I figured it was because you're an author and all that."

"I'm not _that _smart, but I'm flattered you think so."

_Screw you,_ the teen thought bitterly, stalking over to the couch and sitting down with his own copy of the book. Who did his uncle think he was? He's not present all of his life, letting some petty argument stop him from being a present family member, and then all of a sudden, he thinks he could just pretend that he'd been a loving uncle that cared about his well-being. _Think again, Stevie Wonder; I'm no idiot._

There was a knock at the back door, and the boy turned in time to see Hudson slide the door open. Seeing the gargoyle again in real life confirmed one of two things in Elijah's mind: one, that gargoyles, and in extent, magic, were real. Or two, he was absolutely crazy.

"Good evenin' Robbins," the aged gargoyle said, folding his wings around his shoulders, then turning toward the teen and giving him a small nod and a smile. "Elijah. Glad you've come ta join us."

"Not like I had a choice, but thanks," the teen replied, noticing that the winged creature had brought his sword again, and immediately moved back away from the creature.

"Anyone care for some iced tea before we start," his uncle asked, feeling around for the pitcher and a glass, pouring the amber liquid into the cup.

"Aye," the gargoyle replied, accepting the glass that the blind author handed him, taking a sip as he sat down in one of the armchairs by the fire, which seemed to be his regular spot.

"Elijah?" His uncle held out a drink for him as well.

"Thanks," the deaf teen muttered, taking the glass and stalking back to the couch and facing the fireplace, which was devoid of warmth today; his uncle had turned on other lights around the room to illuminate the space. He took a sip ofsitting at attention nearby. his drink, and he begrudgingly had to admit that it tasted pretty good, taking another sip as his uncle took his seat in the other armchair, Gilly

"So," Jeffrey spoke up, turning in his general direction, "usually Hudson and I take turns reading a chapter, but would you like to start with the first?"

"Yeah. Sounds good," Elijah replied, opening his book as his uncle opened his, turning to the first page; if they only read a few chapters a night, he'd read quickly and get it over with as soon as possible. The less time he spent with his uncle, the better. Hudson turned to the teen expectantly, ready to listen, and the boy cleared his throat, starting at Chapter One.

_"The sun sets in the west-"_

"HUDSON!"

The teen nearly threw his book across the room as he gave a scream, glad that he wasn't the only individual shocked by the sudden call, which was accompanied by a banging on the back door. All three of them turned to the door to see a red gargoyle with a wild mane of white hair peering through the window obviously trying to get his friend's attention. This new gargoyle had a long beak-like mouth and jaw, beady black eyes, and two horns poking out of his head. He wore no clothes, save a blue loincloth around his waist, and was a lot shorter and slimmer than the older gargoyle, being around the same height as Jeffrey.

"Brooklyn," Hudson exclaimed, leaping from his seat and going towards the door, opening it for the smaller gargoyle. "What're ye doin' here, lad? Is there trouble back home?"

"No," the red gargoyle replied, gasping a bit for breath. "But… you left very... suddenly so... Goliath sent me… to check on you."

_Goliath who,_ Elijah thought, still staring at the new gargoyle in shock.

"I did not," Hudson told him indignantly, probably annoyed at having been scared as well. "And if Goliath sent ye all the way out here it's not my fault he's paranoid!"

"Sorry," the red gargoyle muttered annoyedly. "Not my fault either." That' combined with the monster's voice, made the teen think that the new gargoyle was also young.

"But it's a good thing to have friends who care about you, Hudson," Jeffrey told him.

"Hi Mr. Robbins," the winged creature said, giving the man a small wave and a smile as he wrapped his wings around his shoulders, seeming to have not noticed Elijah yet. "Didn't see you there. Sorry for scaring you two."

"It's fine," the blind man assured him. "I admire your eagerness to check up on your friend. But I believe some introductions need to be made. This is my nephew, Elijah."

"Elijah?" The red gargoyle seemed confused, but then finally caught sight of the teen, his eyes going wide and his mouth dropping open a bit as he realized that the teen had been in the room the whole time. The two teens stared at one another for a few seconds, taking in one another's appearances, and the human wondered if Hudson had told the rest of the clan about him, or if this gargoyle was realizing that a human with working eyes could see him.

"Uh… hi," the Texan eventually spoke up. "I assume you're a friend of Hudson's?"

"Yeah," the gargoyle said, offering out a hand for him to shake. "Sorry if I freaked you out. I'm Brooklyn."

"Like the borough," the teen replied, tentatively shaking the winged creature's hand. "Do you all have names related to New York City or something?

"Most of us do; Gargoyles usually don't give each other names, but when we woke up in New York, we figured we might as well have some." He turned towards Hudson. "Does he know about our Clan and-"

"Aye," the aged gargoyle replied, taking one of his eye pills, washing it down with his iced tea (which probably wasn't a smart thing to do, but what did Elijah know?). "And Robbins does, too. I'm sorry ye had ta travel all the way out here on my account."

"Would you like to stay for a while," the blind author asked. "We were just about to start a new book."

"I dunno," Brooklyn replied. "I mean, I'm supposed to meet the others in half an hour; we were thinking of seeing a movie."

Elijah had no idea how they were supposed to see a movie, given their non-humanness, but he forgot all about it right as his uncle suddenly suggested, "Why don't you all join us instead? It would give everyone a chance to meet Elijah without any more sudden or unintended introductions. And you can see a movie any old time."

"What," the teen asked weakly, unnoticed by the author or the two gargoyles.

"That _would_ make sense," Hudson said thoughtfully. "The lad here's already had to deal with two scares in two nights."

"You don't have to change your plans on my account," the Texan said quickly, but it seemed as if his comments were falling on deaf ears.

"Okay." Brooklyn spread his wings, as if ready to take flight. "I'll just fly back and-"

"No need," Jeffrey spoke up, getting up from his seat and going over to the phone. "Detective Maza gave me her phone number, so I'll call her and have her pass along the message. Take a seat if you want; do you like iced tea?"

"I've never had it," the younger gargoyle replied, sitting on the couch next to a dazed-faced Elijah, who was still trying to figure out why he seemed to have the worst luck in the world. He didn't want to be around _anyone _right now, but it was as if his uncle was purposefully trying to torment him by forcing him to be friends with the gargoyles. The teen didn't know how large a gargoyle clan was, but if they all were as curious as Hudson had been, then he was in for a long night of questions. And speaking of questions…

"What're those things in your ears," Brooklyn asked, pointing at his left hearing aid.

"No way," the teen said, getting up from his chair and walking towards the door. "I'm not doing this again."

"Elijah," his uncle started to say.

"Shut up," the boy suddenly snapped, whirling around to face the blind man. "Just shut your freaking mouth for one minute and open your PERFECTLY WORKING EARS! Just because I'm deaf doesn't mean I shouldn't get a say in what happens around here! I don't need your help making friends, I don't need to read something or meet anyone to help distract me from the pain or whatever you think I'm going through! I don't need anyone acting like I'm some delicate flower because my parents died! And the _last_ thing I need is to meet a group of monsters! Why can't any of you take a hint and just LEAVE ME ALONE?!"

The three friends stared at him in shock, but Elijah didn't stay long enough for them to reply. Turning on his heel, he left the library, slamming the door behind him.

* * *

**This chapter was a lot of fun to right. I'm a HUGE 90's fan, so just setting a story in this time period was like a dream come true! For those of you that don't know what _Murder, She Wrote_ or Blockbuster are... I hope I've enlightened you. If any of you out there are also 90's buffs, then I hope you've enjoy this story, and to be on the look out for more 90's references as the chapters continue.**

**Also, do any _Gargoyles_ fans out there recognize the name of the town? Obviously, it's fictional, but I hope you enjoyed that little Easter Egg!**

**Have a great day, and I wish you all a Happy 2020!**

**-aggiefrogger**

**Note: I do NOT own _Murder, She Wrote_, Blockbuster (may she rest in peace), Cabot Cove, _The Maltese Falcon,_ Ellen Raskin or _The Westing Game_ in ANY way, shape or form!**


	5. Chapter 5

**Hey, Readers and Gargoyles Fans!**

**Glad to see that you're all enjoying the story so far! I don't know who this mysterious 'Guest' person is, but thank you for your reviews!**

**Anyways, here's Chapter Five, where, as the title explains, contains a multitude of revelations about Robbins Family History, both old and recent, as well as a secret that Elijah had been keeping under-wraps.**

**Enjoy!**

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**Revelations:**

Thirty minutes after his outburst, Elijah had found asylum in his bed room, lying on his bed and staring at the overhead fan as it spun lazily around. If he looked at it the right way, he could imagine it was his bedroom fan back in Galveston, cooling the room from the muggy hot air that seemed to permeate the island.

But it was stupid to think about home right now; he didn't care what _any_ social worker or uncle told him, because New York would _NEVER_ be his home. He belonged in Texas, but no one gave a damn about _his _feelings or what _he_ wanted. All he knew was that he turned eighteen in about three years, which meant that he could leave here forever and go to college in Texas. But now he was stuck with a blind uncle who was friends with a group of gargoyles, and they all seemed to think that he needed to talk to someone about his feelings or his deafness or his parents' death or-

Elijah closed his eyes, trying to think of something else. If he got caught up in the memories again, he'd start to cry, and the last thing he needed was to be found crying like a baby. Because they _would_ eventually come looking for him; there was no way that his Uncle Jeffrey would let him disappear like that without following up on his well-being. He wasn't sure how long he'd been in his room, but he knew that his uncle would probably come knocking on the door any minute, and-

As if on cue, there was a knock at the door, and the teen gave a sigh, not getting up to answer it. There was a few seconds of silence before the knocking sound resumed again. The Texan was starting to consider turning off his hearing aids when he realized the knocking wasn't coming from the door, but from the window.

He sat up with a start, looking over at his window and gaping at the sight of Brooklyn peering in through the glass. For a second, he merely gaped at the gargoyle, wondering how the heck he'd gotten up there, but then remembered they could fly. Giving a groan of annoyance, he got up and went over to the window, opening it a crack.

"So," the Texan said, frowning at the gargoyle, "I suppose you've come to talk to me or something to see if I'm feeling any better?"

"Something like that," the red creature replied. "Mind of if we come in?"

_"'We?'"_ Looking behind the gargoyle, he noticed Hudson holding onto the side of the room, balancing on the narrow ledge. Great; now he had to deal with two gargoyles instead of one, and one was his uncle's best friend. "Do I have to?"

"Unless you want a broken window."

"We're not goin' ta break his window," Hudson spoke up, giving the younger gargoyle a stern glare. "We're here on Robbins' behalf."

Elijah had to laugh, despite the threat of the creatures killing him. "Of course you are! Just like my uncle; not dealing with me himself and sending others to do his dirty work!"

"Well you don't really want to spend much time with him, either," Brooklyn countered. "I could tell that much, and I just met you!"

"None of you know me," the teen snapped, raising his arms to close the window. "And you're not going to."

As he tried to close the window, the gargoyle stuck his hand underneath the edge, preventing it from shutting all the way. The teen tried to push it shut but the gargoyle must've been pretty strong, because he remained adamant in keeping it open, giving him an almost bored look. Eventually, the boy gave up, letting go of the window and walking away, flopping back onto his bed as Brooklyn opened the window, letting himself and Hudson into the room.

"Whatever," Elijah muttered, looking up at the ceiling fan again. "Why even bother anymore? It's apparent I have no say in anything that happens around here."

"Nice place," the red gargoyle commented, looking around the space, reading a few of the spines on his bookshelf. "And a reader, I see."

"Yes, I can read," the Texan said sarcastically. "Thank you, Captain Obvious."

"You're pretty rude for someone your age," Brooklyn commented.

"Get over it. It doesn't bother me at all."

"Well it should. How do you expect people to like you if you act like a jerk?"

"I don't want any friends right now," the teen told him, glaring at him with annoyance. "If you're here for idle chitchat, I'm not in the mood. All I have to do is take out my hearing aids or turn the dial to 'off,' and you might as well be talking to a wall! Like I told my Uncle Jeffrey; I just want to be left alone right now, and if you two can't understand that for whatever reason-"

Hudson, who had remained silent as he'd come into the room, suddenly strode forward, drawing his sword. Immediately, the teen scrambled back against the headboard, closing his eyes as the gargoyle brought the sword down. Seconds later, upon realizing he wasn't maimed, he cautiously opened his eyes, seeing that the older gargoyle had only cut off one of the wooden bed knobs attached to his baseboard. However, the teen wasn't out of the woods yet as he noticed the monster's eyes were suddenly glowing, as if they were fluorescent lights. It made the winged creature look quite fierce, and the teen couldn't help but gape at the sight.

"DO YE THINK WE ARE JUST DUMB ANIMALS," the tan gargoyle demanded, pointing his sword at the terrified teen. "DO YE THINK THIS IS SOME SORT OF GAME WE'RE PLAYIN' AT?!"

"N-No," the boy stammered, shaking with fear. "I just-"

"YOU MAY THINK THAT YE CAN DISRESPECT ROBBINS, BUT YE CAN'T DISRESPECT US AND NOT EXPECT SOME RETALIATION!"

"Hudson, calm down," Brooklyn yelled. "You're scaring him!"

"So what," the older gargoyle demanded, eyes still glowing as he turned towards his friend. "Robbins has done so much for him,_ and_ for this country, and the lad doesn't seem to care about _any_ of that!"

That did it. "I DO care," Elijah snapped as the two gargoyles turned back to him as he sat up, too upset to care about the possibility of being injured (which was probably dumb, on his part). "Don't accuse me of not caring about what he's done for this country because I DO care about that! What I will NOT accept is your pitiful excuse that he's done _everything_ for me! He didn't raise me for the past fifteen years! He didn't call for birthdays or Christmases or any other holiday! He didn't do _anything_ to be a part of my life until after my parents died, and now I'm just supposed to love this… this _stranger_ that I don't even know?!"

"He's your family," Hudson countered, eyes still glowing angrily.

"He is NOT MY FAMILY," the boy screamed, face full of rage as he stared the gargoyle down. "HE WANTED _NOTHING_ TO DO WITH ME UP UNTIL A MONTH AGO, AND HE THINKS JUST BECAUSE HE KNOWS SOME TRIVIAL FACTS ABOUT MY DISABILITY AND CHILDHOOD THAT HE'S SUDDENLY GUARDIAN OF THE YEAR?! HE DOESN'T EVEN _KNOW_ HOW MY PARENTS DIED, BUT I DO, 'CAUSE I WAS THERE WHEN IT HAPPENED! SO YOU CAN THREATEN ME ALL YOU WANT WITH YOUR SWORD AND YOUR CLAWS AND WHATEVER, BUT DON'T TELL ME I'M NOT JUSTIFIED IN MY ANGER TOWARDS HIM! HE COULDN'T EVEN COME UP HERE HIMSELF TO APOLOGIZE AND FIGURE OUT WHAT WAS UPSETTING ME!"

"Because you won't talk to him," the gargoyle yelled in exasperation, the younger one standing nearby, frozen with fear.

"I DON'T _WANT_ TO TALK TO HIM! HOW AM I SUPPOSED TO TELL HIM THAT I'M THE REASON HIS BROTHER DIED?!"

It got so quiet after that, Elijah thought that he'd turned off his hearing aids. Hudson and Brooklyn stared at him in shock, the former's eyes returning to their regular color, the angry glow fading away. The teen, realizing what he had said, instantly slumped back against the headboard, his fists unclenching as the impact of what had happened hit him. There was no way he could spin a story convincing enough to explain why he'd said what he'd just said; they may be monsters, but they were smart monsters, who might tell his uncle what he said, which would mean-

The door to his room opened, and the three occupants looked up to see Jeffrey Robbins standing in the doorway. Even though the man still wore his sunglasses, one look at his face told the Texan that he'd heard every word of what he'd said. Sure, he was shouting, and the two gargoyles weren't exactly being quiet, but the blind author was probably waiting outside the door, ready for his chance to talk to his nephew. It looked like he _had_ wanted to come talk to him himself, but the gargoyles had beaten him to the punch. The man simply stared in his general direction with a neutral expression, his dog by his side. Even though he didn't say anything, the boy knew he had heard everything; he had to tell him.

"I sneaked out," Elijah started, unable to look at anyone in the room, staring down at his hands instead. "My… my friends wanted me to join them for a late-night swim but my parents wouldn't let me so… so I sneaked out and went down to the beach anyway." He took a shaky breath, a few tears in his eyes. "I… I was there an hour or so when our neighbor, one of my friend's mom, came in her car to tell me that my parents were in the hospital and that the police were at my house. My p-parents found my room empty, and were coming to get me. Some guy t-boned them when they had the right of way, and the car-" He couldn't say it; he knew how many times the car flipped, but he couldn't say it out loud as the view of his hands became blurry with tears. "Our n-neighbor brought me to the h-h-hospital, where they were both having emergency surgery… They didn't make it. My last view of them was all of them bloodied and bruised and cut from the wreck, and… and they _died._ B-Because of _me…_"

He finally started crying, closing his eyes as he pictured his parents' unresponsive forms when he was allowed in to see them after they died. Everything had seemed so _right_ with the world earlier that day, that he almost wished that the neighbor had never shown up to get him, allowing him one last night of happiness before his life came crashing down. He had cried in the hospital, but hadn't cried since then, not even at the funeral. Not until now.

His Aunt had taken him in, but with all of her kids, she was unable to adopt him, so he was sent to live with his only other living relative in New York, only staying in Texas long enough to see the funeral and watch his parents' estate and goods be sold to cover some debts. He even let most of his own stuff get sold and given away, no longer feeling worthy of most of his items that his parents had bought for him and given him. He only brought his books, some photos, and a few mementos and gifts from friends and neighbors along with his clothes when he moved here. But none of that mattered at the moment; he was too consumed in his grief as he continued to sob, too upset to care if anyone saw.

He felt his bed creak a little as someone sat down on the edge of it, and he recoiled a little when he felt someone take his hand. However, this wasn't the clawed hand of a gargoyle; this one was smaller, warmer, and calloused from years of hard work and typing. It reminded the teen of his dad's hands, in a way; warm and strong, silently telling him that everything would be alright. In a weird way, it was almost a comfort to hold someone's hand, though he was too old for that kind of stuff anymore.

Elijah, clutching the hand as if his life depended on it, leaned into his uncle's shoulder and accepted the man's embrace as he continued to cry. Surprisingly, the hug was a real comfort to the teen, who seemed to sob even harder as the blind author held him upright. He hadn't hugged anyone since his parents had died (though several people hugged him at the funeral), and he wondered if his uncle actually forgave him if he was hugging him. Then he wondered why he was even _allowing_ himself to be hugged and comforted, as if he hadn't done anything wrong.

_What are you doing,_ the boy thought to himself in the back of his mind. _You told yourself you wouldn't cry, or show emotion, or accept pity, or-_

_Just shut up and grieve,_ the rational part of him thought.

About five or so minutes later, the teen was all cried out, and he slowly pulled away from the hug, still unable to look at his uncle or any of the gargoyles. Now that he had stopped crying, he now was waiting for the hammer to fall; surely his uncle would yell at him or get mad at him because of what he'd done. His uncle was smart, so surely he knew that there was no minimizing what the boy had done. He wouldn't be surprised if his uncle hated him for the rest of his life, so the teen was resigning himself to this new reality when Jeffrey suddenly said-

"Elijah, I'm not mad at you."

The teen froze at those words, still unable to look at anyone. Uncle Jeffrey didn't sound angry, but the boy figured that the man was still trying to process what he had just heard.

"Elijah, please look at me."

It took the teen everything he had to look up at the blind man, who sat on the edge of the bed next to him, staring at a spot a little over the Texan's shoulder.

"I… I'm listening," Elijah said hollowly, staring at his reflection in the man's glasses, ready for whatever speech his uncle was going to give him. Eventually, his uncle took a deep breath and began.

"First off, I wanted to apologize for being an absent uncle throughout your life. I had let a petty disagreement between your father and I escalate out of control, and now, after his death, it is one of my greatest regrets. As for the cause of this disagreement, I will try to keep it short, though I doubt the writer in me will allow me to do so." He stopped talking for a few moments, as if steeling himself to say what he needed to say, then continued.

"After I came back from the war in the 60's, I had to learn how to read Braille and readjust to life without my sight. I stayed with my family for a while, including your father and Aunt Martha, who were both 11 and 17 respectively, and your grandparents; my dad had remarried years ago, and Joseph was born. I lived with them for nearly ten years, unsure of what to do with my life now that my job opportunities were now almost nonexistent. Since I had a lot of free time, I started to write, pouring myself into my work, drawing on my favorite myths and stories from my youth. I wasn't even planning on publishing my first book, but it was your father that convinced me to do so, and the next thing I knew, _Gilgamesh the King_ was a bestseller, and people were asking for more. I had my old seeing-eye dog back then; I didn't get Gilly until about three years ago.

"I worked in a frenzy, writing stories so fast, I was like the words seemed to pour from an overflowing well of inspiration, and the more novels I wrote, the more attention I received. Your father, who was growing up during this period, was happy for me, as well as glad with the attention he sometimes received at school for being the younger brother of a famous author. However, this happiness soon dissipated by the time he reached high school, and he started to grow distant, but I didn't notice... I wish now that I had; I would've changed how I'd acted if I'd paid him more attention...

"Eventually, Joseph was studying in college, your aunt was already married and starting her family, and I was publishing my fifth book when our mother died; our father had died years ago when I was over in Vietnam. As the oldest in the family, most of her assets, including the house, went to me. By then, I was starting to get too much attention in Galveston as an author, so I sold the family house bought this place up here, and moved away. Your father wasn't happy with my decision, and we argued back and forth as to why I hadn't asked him before doing so, but I was firm in my stance."

The blind author hesitated again, he hands folded in his lap before he continued. "I should have known then that things were going downhill with our relationship, but I was too focused on my writing career to do anything about it, or even care. Besides that, he was still studying in Texas, and I was in New York by then; most of what I'd heard about him was from the letters I exchanged with Martha.

"Then, I messed up. Your father was graduating from his university, and I, of course, was planning on coming. But in a moment of confusion with television appearances and book signings, I missed it. He was understandably upset, and I tried many times to apologize without success. However, I soon grew angry a few years later when I learned from your aunt that your father was getting married, and hadn't bothered to invite me to the wedding.

"I… I will admit, I got mad at him for what he had done, and I flew on my own to Texas and crashed the wedding, you could say. I doubt you'd find any pictures of me at the reception, but Joseph pulled me aside, and we got into a full-blown argument in another room. I... I'm still ashamed of what I said to him, and I had no right to tell him what I told him on his wedding night, but I let my anger and emotions get the better of me. He, on the other hand, rightfully accused me of neglecting my family and letting my fame get to my head, saying I cared more about money than family. We went back and forth for several minutes, but it ended with him telling me to never contact him or his new family again and leaving to return to his new wife and wedding guests.

"I went back to New York after that, and stayed mad at him for a long period of time, obeying his request to not contact him. Whenever I wrote your aunt, I included no messages for Joseph, though she continued to send me information about him; most likely because she wanted us to make up and be a family again. It was through her I learned about you. I… I even came to your first birthday party, hoping to repair our relationship, but my brother was still sore at that time, and even threatened to get a restraining order if I came unannounced again. I could've fought it, since he had no real basis, but I was still bitter as well, and resolved to not even do so much as call my younger brother. By then, I had run out of new novel ideas, and over time, I fell out of the public eye as my well of stories dried up. I became anchor-less, spending day after day, year after year, not doing anything to try and make things right."

"My… my dad never told me the reason he and you never spoke, and why you never came to visit," Elijah spoke up, having soaked in everything he had learned about his family's history like a sponge, still mulling over parts of it that stuck out in his mind. "He even pretended not to hear whenever Aunt Martha mentioned you.

Uncle Jeffrey nodded. "We were both stubborn; I guess I still am sometimes. I mean, I was pretty adamant about you meeting Hudson and the others... I guess it's my hubris, you could say."

"Mine too," the boy sighed, thinking about how hard he'd fought to get his way.

"What's a hubris," Brooklyn whispered to Hudson.

"A fatal flaw," the older gargoyle explained, motioning for the younger monster to be quiet and not interrupt.

"But I should have just swallowed my pride and called your father or shown up for one of your other birthdays, risking the lawsuit," the boy's uncle continued, still looking somber and melancholy. "It wasn't fair to either of us, and for that I sincerely apologize."

"I... I-" Elijah gave a huff of exasperation, trying to figure out how he was feeling and keep his emotions in check. All his life he grew up thinking that his uncle was a bad guy, but now he knew this whole other side of the story that changed his whole view on how he viewed his legal guardian, and his dad as well. His dad… "But I should be apologizing to _you!_ I'm the reason you can't try to apologize to your brother in person again, and that you can never try to repair your relationship with him, or-"

"Elijah, stop this," his Uncle Jeffrey interrupted firmly, looking straight at him (which was probably just a crazy coincidence), frown lines on his face revealing what his eyes could not. "Let's get one thing straight right here and now; I am not upset with you in any way, and you are NOT the cause of your parent's death. Nor are they the cause of their own deaths by choosing to look for you; that lies with the man who knocked their car off the road. None of you had no way of knowing what would happen, so you can't blame yourself for events beyond your control. You did _nothing_ wrong."

"But I sneaked out! They wouldn't have been out driving if I hadn't-"

"ELIJAH!"

His uncle's bark was so harsh and sudden, the two gargoyles jumped along with the teen, and Gilly even seemed scared by the sound as well. Then, to all of their surprise, the blind man raised his hand to his face and took off his sunglasses, which was something he _never_ did, revealing green eyes covered with that pale film that showed their inability to see. Old scars criss-crossed the skin around his eyelids, as if something had blown up in his face. There were a few tears welling up in them, and the boy stared at them in shock, half-expecting his uncle not to have eyes, much less ones that could cry.

"Look me in the eye," his uncle told him, the eyes staring blankly ahead of him. "Look at me! It is _not your fault!_ The longer you hold onto this lie that you've killed your parents, the worse it is going to get for you! What happened to your parents was horrible and didn't deserve to happen to them, but you don't deserve to live with this guilt that you've convinced yourself to carry!" His uncle reached forward, searching for his nephew's hand, and the teen took it, squeezing the hand as he felt his own tears well up again. "You did nothing wrong; it's not your fault. _Say it!_ It's not your fault."

"It's... It's not m-my f-f-fault," the boy gasped, struggling to get the words out, saying it more out of obedience to his uncle, but once he did, he was surprised as he felt as if a great weight had been lifted off his chest. He wanted to say it again, the ignorance in his mind starting to melt away. "It's not my f-fault."

"Good, Elijah," his Uncle Jeffrey told him gently, and this time, it was the author who was pulled into a hug, both of them leaking a few tears as the teen repeated the phrase a few more times, feeling lighter and happier with each repeat. He also put his apology in his hug, hoping that his uncle could tell how sorry he was, and he felt that his uncle was apologizing as well with his hug. They both knew that they'd taken a big step in the right direction in their relationship, and that the road was still far ahead of them, but for now, they were glad to have each other for family.

"Should we go," Brooklyn whispered to Hudson, who shot him a death glare for speaking up. The human family separated from their hug, turning back to the two gargoyles, as if noticing that they were there for the first time.

"I… I still think I should apologize to you guys," Elijah spoke up, quickly drying his eyes and looking at the two winged creatures. "I had no right to be rude to either of you or judge you because you were friends with my uncle... or of how you look or what you are. It wasn't fair for any of us, and… if you'd like, I..." He hesitated before continuing, expecting the worse. "I think I _would_ like to be friends with you two. And you Clan, too, if that's okay."

The gargoyles didn't even hesitate breaking into huge grins, surprising the teen. "Of course we'll be friends, lad," the older one said happily, walking over and shaking the teen's hand. "We figured ye'd come around at some point, but don't feel like we're forcin' ye to be friends!"

"Of course not," the boy replied gratefully, relieved that they weren't mad at him.

"Good. Though, I should apologize too." He looked over at the baseboard of the teen's head. "I shouldn't have lost my temper like that."

"Don't be. I doubt I would've said what needed to be said if it weren't for that glowing eye thing you did."

"Do you mean this," Brooklyn asked, his eyes suddenly glowing like two miniature lamps.

_"Woah,"_ the teen gasped, gaping at them with fascination and apprehension. "You can do it on command?"

"Yeah, but we only save it for battle; it really freaks out opponents," the red gargoyle replied, his eyes returning to normal. "But I'm glad we're going to be friends; it's about time we met a human that's closer to my age!"

"You're 15?"

"I'm 39, but since we don't age in our sleep, one year of growth for us is two of yours, so I'd technically be 19."

"Wow, that's pretty cool."

"It is indeed," Jeffrey spoke up, standing from the bed and putting his glasses back on as he turned toward his nephew's general direction. "If you don't want to read anything tonight, Elijah, then I won't force you; Hudson and I can pick another book, and Brooklyn can go back-"

"Oh no, it's fine," the teen said quickly, suddenly not wanting to be left alone anymore. "I don't mind reading tonight; it's a pretty good book. And you don't have to leave if you don't want to. But… did you still invite the whole clan over?" He then realized how rude it sounded, and he quickly tried to backtrack. "Not that I don't like you guys; you guys are cool, but it's just-"

"You're still not ready to meet the rest of our clan yet," the aged gargoyle asked, and the boy eventually nodded, looking down at his feet, embarrassed. "No trouble at all, lad. We understand."

"Yeah," the younger gargoyle added. "It was a long time before we met any other humans beside Elisa, so we get it if you wanna take your time."

"Thanks," the boy replied, smiling a little, relieved that he was finally being heard.

"Well," the blind author spoke up again, a grin on his face, "let's go downstairs. We've still got that pitcher of ice tea to finish, as well as a book to start." The group agreed, making their way out of the room and through the house.

Back in the library, everyone settled in their seats, having another glass of iced tea each as they prepared to start the new book. Looking around, Elijah couldn't help but marvel at the sight before him; never had he imagined that he'd meet and befriend gargoyles, nor did he believe that he would ever reconcile with his uncle. But, even though it wasn't what he originally expected, he was glad it happened. For the first time since his parents died, he was feeling happy again, and he knew that things were only going to get better from here.

"Ready," he asked. The three listeners nodded, giving him a round grins, and the boy opened the book again, ready to enter the familiar world of the mystery.

_"The sun sets in the west (just about everyone knows that), but Sunset Towers faced east. Strange!"_

* * *

**And that's it for this chapter!**

**I hope you enjoyed this installment in the story of Elijah Robbins; I think it's the turning point of Elijah's life, preparing him to move on from his parents' death. As for the part with Jeffrey's history, I came up with it, since all the websites with information about the character doesn't say anything about his past besides his time fighting in Vietnam before becoming a writer. I hope you enjoyed my version of his life.**

**Also, "Revelations" is an episode title from _Gargoyles,_ so that's another Easter Egg!**

**As always, feel free to follow and favorite (if you don't already) if you want to be updated on new chapters and stories. And feel free to drop a review with your thoughts and comments on the chapter or story overall!**

**I hope you all have a great day, and see you next chapter!**

**-aggiefrogger**

**I do NOT own The Westing Game or Captain Obvious in ANY way, shape or form!**


	6. Chapter 6

**Welcome back, Readers!**

**I hope you're enjoying the story so far! Big thanks to everyone who's followed and favorited and left a review on this story so far; you guys just made my day! Also, this part of the story now takes place after the 'Turf' episode, during the time that Demona's locked up in the Labyrinth before Thailog breaks her out in October (so, this is technically end of August, beginning of September).**

**Anyway, here's the next chapter of the story, which focuses more on Elijah tackling the next phase of his move to New York: High School. I hope you enjoy it!**

* * *

**New School and A Familiar Face:**

[NOTE: Signed conversations will be in _italics_ unless otherwise stated.]

"Now you try," Elijah told Brooklyn, sitting on the library rug across from the gargoyle, demonstrating the hand gesture once more.

The white-haired gargoyle hesitated a moment before opening his hands, palms facing himself, the middle fingers bent forward from the large knuckle. He placed the tips of the middle-finger claws on his chest and then flipped his hands so that the middle fingers were pointing upwards with the palms facing up. _"What's up?"_

Elijah grinned and nodded his approval; while gargoyles only had four fingers on each hand, there were still some signs that they were able to do, and he'd shown the younger gargoyle several signs, and the winged creature had caught on pretty quickly. At first, he wasn't too keen on teaching anyone to sign, especially a curious gargoyle with eight fingers, but over time, he grew to enjoy the small lessons they had whenever Brooklyn visited, especially since the gargoyle was starting to be able to understand him whenever he signed. _"Good job,"_ he signed back, earning a relieved grin from the crimson gargoyle. _"You're really improving."_

_"Thanks,"_ the gargoyle replied, pressing his flat right hand to his mouth before lowering it in the boy's direction; he also mouthed the words he was saying, so the deaf teen could understand what he was saying in case he got a sign wrong. He then looked over at the two veterans, who sat on the other side of the library in their usual chairs playing a card game, then back at him. _"Say something about them,"_ he mouthed silently, probably not sure of the right words to sign, or unable to physically sign them.

_"Fine,"_ Elijah replied, looking over at the two adults before turning back to his gargoyle protege. _"Who do you think's gonna win? Sign 'H' for Hudson and 'R' for my uncle."_

_"Hudson."_

_"Why?"_

_"He's older,"_ Brooklyn signed slowly, making sure he got the hand movements right. _"More experience."_

_"But he hasn't been playing cards for most of that time,"_ the boy signed back. _"My uncle's been playing for years! I think Jeffrey's gonna win, but maybe I'm biased."_

_"You are."_

_"Well so are you if you think Hudson's gonna win!"_

"What did you say," Hudson asked curiously, now noticing the duo's silent conversation.

"Just saying hi," the teen replied out loud, turning towards the older gargoyle and his uncle with an innocent smile. "Again, I could teach you two a few signs if you'd like if you wanna know what we're saying."

"Maybe some other time, lad," the gargoyle replied as he and his opponent placed their cards on the table at the same time, grinning as he took both cards. "I doubt I could remember all of those hand gestures as well as Brooklyn can."

"And I'm blind," Uncle Jeffrey spoke up, cracking a small smile. "I'm not exactly a model candidate!"

"Ha ha. You keep telling yourself that, Helen Keller," Elijah replied sarcastically, turning back to Brooklyn and signing the word _"Crazy."_

It had now been a month-and-a-half since his heart-to-heart with his uncle, and the teen had now become used to Hudson and Brooklyn, who were the only gargoyles that came to visit his uncle and him. The older gargoyle usually visited three or four times a week (depending when _Celebrity Hockey_ or some other mind-numbing show was on back at his castle home), while the younger one usually visited once or twice a week. Besides these two gargoyles, the teen had not met any of the other Clan members, but the promise of meeting them was always a topic of conversation between the four of them.

Elijah, meanwhile, was doing much better than he used to be. He was surprised that reading a children's mystery book from the 70's could be what he had needed to cheer him up and help him get used to his new home and friends; by the time they finished _The Westing Game,_ he felt like he'd been doing it for years. They had started the second Raskin book by now, reading a few chapters each night before the two teens worked on ASL while the veterans either talked or played some sort of game. Whenever Hudson was the only gargoyle present, he'd tell stories about life in Scotland in the 10th century, the boy listening with avid interest while his uncle took notes for his next novel; he also told him about their time in New York since waking up from the spell, talking about how they acclimated to life in a new century, as well as the constant adventures and fights the Clan seemed to find themselves in. It was like a fictional story, but it was all real, and Elijah loved every second of it. Throughout the weeks, he had grown to trust the two gargoyles and his uncle, and they were also returning that trust by being his first friends in New York. However, there was something tomorrow morning that they would be unable to help him with.

"Are ye ready fer school tomorrow, lad," Hudson asked, placing a card on the table as he tried to beat Jeffrey at War.

"Thanks for reminding me," Elijah grumbled, taking another sip from his glass of iced tea. "Do gargoyles have to go to school?"

"We're taught by the Clan as a whole," Brooklyn explained. "Everything we learn: hunting, gliding, history and fighting, we learn from the collective group of gargoyles."

"Really," the teen asked, amazed by this revelation. "That's interesting. What about your parents?"

"We aren't raised by our parents. Parents contribute eggs to the Clan, and everyone takes responsibility of them as a whole. All hatchlings born in a certain generation are rookery brothers and sisters, and the adults take responsibility for raising all of them; we don't really distinguish by blood, so we as a Clan are one family."

"So… you don't know who your parents are?"

The two gargoyles looked at each other, waiting for the other to say something; Elijah could tell that he had probably hit a sore subject. "We… It doesn't matter if we knew our biological parents or not," Hudson eventually said. "What matters is that all of our young are raised and loved, and is that not what is really important?"

"I… I guess so," the teen replied, deciding to drop the subject matter.

His uncle, obviously sensing the discomfort in the current subject, quickly spoke up. "Elijah, if you have school tomorrow, shouldn't you be in bed? It's nearly 10:30."

The boy gave a small groan. "Do I _have_ to?"

"Yes, you do. You can't be making a bad impression on your new classmates and teachers by falling asleep in the middle of class."

"I know, I know," the teen replied, getting up and going to the door. "Goodnight, then."

"Goodnight," Jeffrey and the others chorused as the boy opened the door. Instead of leaving, however, he closed it behind him and crept back to the couch, holding a finger to his lips so the gargoyles would keep quiet. He quietly settled onto the couch, giving his uncle a wary look, then finally gave a triumphant smile.

"You know I would have heard your footsteps in the hallway if you had actually left, Elijah," his uncle said in a slightly patronizing tone, not looking up from his game as he placed one of his playing cards on the table (the cards had Braille dots in the corners so he could tell which cards were which).

The teen gaped at him as Brooklyn started laughing. "Nice try, dude," the young gargoyle snickered.

"It was a good effort, though," Hudson added, smirking as well.

"Do I need Gilly to escort you to you room," his uncle asked, chuckling a little as his seeing-eye dog lifted her head.

"I'm good," Elijah said quickly, going to the door. "Leaving for real this time." And he did, quickly saying good night to the two gargoyles (as well as signing, _"Tell me who wins tomorrow night,"_ to Brooklyn) before stepping into the hallway and closing the door behind him.

_He's good,_ he thought himself as he made his way towards his bedroom. _Guess it's that whole thing where his other senses are heightened because he's blind._

As he reached his room, he was reminded of his upcoming classes tomorrow as he spotted his backpack by his desk. Of course, he'd seen in movies and stuff what kids who moved to new places had to go through being the new kid, but he had two extra reasons to be nervous, and they were currently resting in his ears. For a second, he considered going without his hearing aids tomorrow, but knew that he wouldn't get far; high schools were crowded, and if someone asked him a question outside of his line of vision, then he wouldn't be able to hear them. Plus, he knew that his teachers would probably know about his disability before hand and mention it to the class.

Already, he missed his old school back in Galveston. There, everyone already knew he was deaf, and they had all been in the same classes since Kindergarten. Heck, all of his friends besides Erica were normal, at least in the sense that they could hear and didn't have any major disabilities. Here, he would not only be the new kid, but he would also be the subject of discussion due to his deafness, and a possible target for bullies. He took out his hearing aids, putting on his old one as he set his alarm for the morning and got ready for bed.

_Well,_ he thought to himself, _there's no getting out of it; I just gotta keep my head down and try not to stand out too much._

..

The next morning, after a quick breakfast, Elijah pulled his bike out of the garage to make his way towards Weisman High School, which was about a ten minute ride down the road. As he left the back driveway, he noticed two extra gargoyles statues perched on the wall, each acting like they were attacking anyone who tried to intrude, though he noticed that Brooklyn's left hand appeared to be a thumbs up.

"Very inconspicuous," the teen muttered, though he couldn't help but grin as he passed them, heading towards the town.

Once he was in town, he stopped across the street from the school, looking at the other students that milled around as they made their way into the school. The building was two story, made of a red brick that glowed in the sunlight, and, to all expectations of the teen, it looked like a regular high school. He self-consciously ran a finger over his right hearing aid, which he had made sure was painted as close to his skin tone as he could get earlier that morning.

"Here I go," he muttered, walking his bike across the street, parking and locking it at the bike rack before making his way inside.

Elijah was relieved when everyone immediately didn't turn towards him, pointing out his hearing aids. The front hallway was crowded, and most students were facing away from him, lined up in front of tables where other students were handing out schedules and maps to the school. Trying to move quickly so no one could get a good look at him, he walked over to the line with last names "**Q-T**." Looking around, he noticed most people were talking with their friends, and those that weren't were keeping to themselves, just like he was doing. If anyone did notice his hearing aids, he couldn't tell, but he looked around every once in a while as he slowly made his way to the front of the line.

"Last name," the girl behind the table asked, head bent down as she looked through a box of folders.

"Robbins, Elijah."

She started to run her fingers through the folders in the box, searching for his name. "And… here it is! Welcome to-" The girl cut off as she looked up at him, and Elijah couldn't help but gape at who it was.

It was that Blockbuster girl from a little over a month ago. It _had_ to be; the same brown hair, the same shocked expression on her pale face, and the same green eyes as well. He hadn't seen her since their last meeting, and he had forgotten all about her until now; he'd been a little preocupied with the gargoyles to care about a random Blockbuster worker. Looking back, it made sense that she was here, since this was the only high school in the area, and she looked around his age as well.

They stared at each other for a few seconds, not sure of what to say, but the girl eventually looked away, blushing a little as she held out his schedule and map to him. "Welcome to Weisman High," she muttered.

"Thanks," he replied quickly, taking the papers and walking around the table into the school before anyone else could notice. He eventually stopped by a clump of lockers before looking back at the row of tables. She wasn't looking back at him, and he hoped that no one else noticed their brief recognition of one another. He didn't know why, but he somehow felt embarrassed at how he had treated her the last time he'd seen her.

_Just ignore her,_ he told himself, opening the folder with his class schedule, school rules, and a layout of the school. _Just focus on getting through today; it's a big school, and it's not likely you'll see her again._

..

The day went well, at least in Elijah's opinion. Naturally, people noticed his hearing aids, and he heard their whispers in the hall, but other than that, nothing bad really happened to him. No one called out his lack of hearing, or tried speaking loudly to him as if he couldn't hear him; a few teachers gave him second looks after calling his name during roll call, but they didn't press him for details. Even in Gym, when he had to give the coach a note excusing him from any activities that could possibly damage or knock out his aids, no one gave him any trouble. Maybe he had overreacted a little bit when he assumed that anyone would try to mess with him, but at least the school day was over and nothing embarrassing or humiliating had happened to him. Plus, his classes were interesting, though he would miss taking a Texas History class.

Walking over to the bike rack, he bent down to unlock it when he felt a shadow fall over him. Fearing the worse, he turned around, jumping a little when he saw who it was.

"Uh… hi," the Blockbuster girl started, awkwardly standing nearby, her backpack slung over her shoulder.

Elijah straightened up, not sure of what she wanted, but also feeling a little guilty for what he had done the last time he'd seen her."Hi… Amanda, right?"

She nodded quickly. "Y-Yeah. I recognized you earlier and I… Look, about what happened earlier this summer… at Blockbuster and all of that-"

"It's fine," he said quickly, shifting his feet a little where he stood. "I… I guess I was in the wrong, getting mad at you and all of that.

"But it was totally my fault," she quickly replied. "I shouldn't have treated you that way, and I wanted to apologize the next time you came back to the store, but you never did, and-"

"It's fine," he assured her again, just wanting to leave, and relieved (for some reason) that she wasn't mad at him or blamed him for snapping at her. "I just… let's just pretend it never happened. Okay?"

"F-Fine," she stammered, nodding her head so her hair shook around her. "You… You're Jeffrey Robbins' relative or something, right?"

He turned back to her, just wanting to leave in peace; he already had a bunch of reading for English, not to mention other homework from his other classes (apparently they jumped straight into schoolwork in New York state). "Uh, yeah. He's my uncle."

"I figured that, since I doubt he would suddenly have a child; he's lived by himself in that house as far as I could remember."

"Cool…" They lapsed into an awkward silence, and Elijah wondered if he should say something. "So… have you lived here your whole life?"

"Yeah," Amanda nodded. "Born and raised. But I take it you're not from around here, given your accent, and… the fact that I'd never seen you before this summer." She was kind of awkward, but she still seemed sincere, brushing her hair back behind her ear.

"Yeah. I'm from Texas."

"Really? Where in Texas?"

"Galveston Island."

"I've heard of that place; wasn't there a big hurricane in 1900 or something?"

"Yeah… Pretty bad stuff."

"Cool. I mean, not cool, because so many people died and all that." She shifted her feet as well before finally looking back up at him. "Well, it was nice meeting you, uh…"

"Elijah," he told her, holding out his hand for her to shake, then realizing how stupid it probably looked, but she was shaking it before he could take it back.

"Elijah," she repeated, giving him a small smile. "Nice to meet you. Sorry again. See you around." And then she walked away after that, leaving him standing by his bike, wondering if he just had that conversation with her.

_I know I wanted to apologize to her,_ he thought to himself, unlocking his bike chain and putting it in his backpack. _But did it have to be so awkward? Did anyone else see it?_

He looked around, and was relieved to see that no one appeared to have been looking in his direction. Continuing to look around the area, he noticed Amanda was already on the other side of the street, chatting with some of her friends, bubbly and full of life. It was obvious that whatever she wanted to say to him, she'd said it, meaning that they would have nothing to do with one another in the future.

"And I'm fine with that," he told himself, climbing onto his bike and heading for home. "We're even now."

* * *

**And that's it for this chapter! I know there wasn't a lot of action or gargoyles this time, but the next chapter's gonna be Elijah meeting the rest of the Manhattan Clan, so it should be interesting! Also, if you're asking if there's gonna be ANY action in future chapters, I guarantee that there will, but that it will build up, since the story's from Elijah's perspective, and because I don't want to rush this story.**

**I hope that having the whole signed conversations in italics isn't too confusing. I usually italicize a few spoken words for emphasis, so I'm trying to distinguish when Elijah and Brooklyn are signing and stuff.**

**I hope you enjoyed this chapter, as well as the story so far! As always, please favorite and follow the story if you liked it and want to be updated on new chapters, and feel free to leave a review with your chapter/story comments as well.**

**Have a great and safe weekend, and see you next time!**

**-aggiefrogger**

**Note: I do NOT own Blockbuster, New York, or War in ANY way, shape or form!**


	7. Chapter 7

**Good day Readers and Gargoyle Fans!**

**I know, I know, I just posted a new chapter a week ago and that the whole category doesn't get too much traffic, so I should hold off another week before posting this chapter.**

**Well, I'm impatient as heck, and figured that even if a lot of people don't read this, then I'll post for the other impatient people who need a little brightness in their week. So here's Chapter Seven! Enjoy!**

* * *

**First-Time Visits and A Favor:**

**Elijah POV:**

"Nervous," Elijah asked his Uncle Jeffrey as he set a tray of glasses and a pitcher of lemonade on the library table.

"A little bit," his uncle told him calmly, calling Gilly over to his side as he made his way over to his armchair. "Even though I know there's nothing to worry about, everyone gets a little scared every now and then; even me."

"_You're_ scared," Elijah asked incredulously, giving the blind author a surprised look. "You've met them all before! If anyone should be scared, it's me!"

The veteran gave a small laugh at his nephew's comment. "I didn't _exactly_ know that they were gargoyles then, and they were just checking up on me after Demona turned everyone in New York City to stone; this is our first real chance to get to know one another."

"I still can't believe that actually happened" the teen replied, sitting on the couch as he started signing the alphabet to himself; he always did it whenever he was nervous. He looked over at the clock. "But they should be here soon."

"You're right," Jeffrey agreed, feeling the watch on his wrist. "And we have everything ready to go, and dinner's in the oven; nothing we can do now except wait." He sat down in his usual spot by the fireplace, as the teen kept a watchful eye on the sliding glass door, searching for any sign of movement from outside as his hand went through the familiar motions.

_Finally,_ for the first time, the Clan was coming to visit Jeffrey and Elijah at their home for the entire evening. The gargoyles had decided to take a break from their usual patrol routine, figuring they needed a break. Besides, Elijah had been at school for two weeks now, and they (that being Jeffrey and Hudson) figured it would be a nice diversion from his homework (though the Clan was visiting on a Friday night, which wasn't a school night), and a chance for him to meet the rest of Hudson's and Brooklyn's family. They had planned on leaving right after sunset, so they were due to arrive soon.

"There's nothing to be nervous about," Uncle Jeffrey suddenly spoke up, interrupting his thoughts. "I may not know the other clan members as well as Hudson or Brooklyn, but I can assure you that from what I know of them, they are very kind individuals. And know that they'll be nervous too, knowing that we know their secret."

"Where's this coming from," the deaf teen asked, looking over at his uncle as he paused at the letter 'O'.

"I'm blind, not stupid; I can hear you bouncing you leg for the past few minutes. You're nervous, if not scared."

Looking down at his leg, he realized that it was indeed moving, but stopped as soon as he focused on it. "Maybe I should pretend I'm sick and hide upstairs," he suggested wildly, getting up from the couch.

"Elijah," his uncle spoke up in that authoritative but kindly tone that made the teen pause by the library door, turning back to face the blind man. "I understand your fear; I can't imagine what it must feel like, since I had time to get to know Hudson before I learned he was a gargoyle, and you're meeting his whole clan all at once. But I assure you that they'll like you; I'm positive Brooklyn and Hudson have told the others about about you, and they'll know not to ask a lot of questions about your hearing."

"I know that," the boy said exasperatedly. "I just… I can still be nervous, right?"

"Of course you can," his uncle told him. "And it's perfectly normal. But I won't let you give into foolish fears that prevent you from being a good friend. Besides, they came here to meet you specifically, so it might be a little suspicious if you suddenly became bedridden; they would know something was up."

Elijah sighed, tapping the door frame with his fingers as he tried to settle the butterflies in his stomach. He knew that the longer he pushed off meeting the other gargoyles, the better; and like his uncle said, he was probably overreacting. "You're right," he eventually said, walking back over to the couch. "No use being scared; I was scared twice before, I won't let there be a third." A knock at the sliding glass door startled the two humans, and Gilly perked her head up, barking at the visitor who stood outside.

"Anyone home," Brooklyn called through the glass, giving them a large grin.

The teen couldn't help but grin in return, though he still felt nervous. "You made it!"

"We all did," Hudson spoke up, appearing over the red gargoyle's shoulder. "But we flew ahead ta give ye a proper warnin'. Ye might want to let Gilly out, though; somethin' tells me that she's gonna be happy ta see Bronx again."

"I agree; let's move outside for this," Jeffrey spoke up, getting up from his chair as Gilly led him to the door. "Elijah, the door?" The teen quickly opened the door, but the dog restrained herself as she led the blind man outside, only running away when Jeffrey said she could.

"Hey, Elijah," Brooklyn said brightly, then seeming to notice the anxiety on his face, he quickly held out his hands, palms down and fingers open, shaking them quickly. The gargoyle knew that signing was Elijah's preferred method of communication, and it also gave him an opportunity to work on his own signing. _"Nervous?"_

_" … Kind of,"_ the boy signed in reply, feeling like he needed to get the signing out of him before he had to start talking to everyone. _"I'm trying not to be, but… I guess I'm still a little anxious. I don't know why…"_

_"It's okay,"_ the crimson gargoyle signed, which was pretty awkward at some parts given his four fingers, and he finger-spelled some of the words. _"You're gonna like them, and they're gonna like you!"_

_ "Thanks."_ Elijah couldn't help but feel a little better at his friend's encouragement, and for a few moments, he forgot how nervous he was.

"I'm just gonna assume that you two aren't talkin' about us," Hudson spoke up, as the two friends turned towards him. "But it looks like the others are here."

Looking up, the teen saw a group of winged figures descending from the sky, heading straight for them. They landed a few feet away, the lead one dropping something that looked like a dog from a distance, but upon closer examination revealed rough blue skin, webbed ears, and claws that would put any wildcat to shame; the seeing-eye dog was a dwarf compared to the gargoyle. Looking excited, the wingless gargoyle-dog ran forward, as did Gilly, the two of them barking and chasing one another happily.

_That must be Bronx,_ Elijah thought, smiling a little at how nice the two friends were playing around. Then, turning back to the main group of gargoyles, he tried to figure out who was who, based on what Hudson and Brooklyn had told him about their Clan.

First, he saw two gargoyles that were holding one another's hands, as if they were together. The first one was clearly male, fat, and had aqua-colored skin and large, almost webbed ears like a lizard; the other gargoyle, this one female, was more petite, muscular, and had lavender-colored skin along with long raven hair. They had to be Broadway and Angela, since they looked like a regular couple, and the hand-holding confirmed this; Angela also wore clothes, but everyone else wore only loincloths, except Hudson. Then, looking back towards Bronx and Gilly, Elijah noticed a smaller gargoyle standing nearby, watching them. Height-wise, the small gargoyle would probably reach up to his waist, with neutral green skin, and his wings were stretched between his arms and legs, like a flying squirrel, meaning he had to be Lex. Then, he finally turned towards the final gargoyle, instantly recognizing who he was, even without the process of elimination.

Staring up at Goliath, who towered over him like a looming mountain, the boy could tell that he was serious, wise, and strong; he'd heard stories of the gargoyle being able to tear through metal walls, and he shuddered a little at the thought. He'd been told all about the leader of the Clan, including his kindness and loyalty to the citizens of New York, but the sight of the giant gargoyle was shocking for him, a bit of the old fear returning. Still feeling a little intimidated, he froze when the gargoyle turned his gaze towards him.

"You must be Elijah," the lavender gargoyle said to him, giving him a kind smile. "Hudson and Brooklyn have told me much about you. I am Goliath."

"H-H-Hi," the teen stammered, holding out his hand, which was covered by the gargoyle's hand when he shook it. "N-N-Nice to m-meet you."

"There's no need to be scared," Goliath told him, obviously sensing his nervousness. "We mean you no harm, and your uncle has helped us in the past. We are honored that you could come visit our home."

"Th-Thanks," the boy replied, managing to give a weak smile.

"It is nice to meet both of you," Angela spoke up, introducing herself to the teen and the author. "Hudson and Brooklyn talk about the two of you all the time!"

"And Brooklyn keeps trying to teach us to hand talk," Broadway added, "but I'm not as good at it as he is."

"It _does_ take a lot of time to master," Elijah told him as he shook his hand, deciding not to correct the gargoyle's grammar, since Hudson mentioned that he was still learning to read as well. As he kept talking with the gargoyles, he became less and less nervous; why had he been scared earlier? It seemed silly, looking back at it now.

"Hi," Lex spoke up, coming over to the group and shaking the teen's hand. "I'm Lex!"

"Nice to meet you. Is it true that you _really_ repaired and flew a helicopter once," the deaf boy asked, curious to hear if Brooklyn's story was true, as well as trying to find a topic of discussion that wasn't him.

"Yeah," the green gargoyle said modestly. "But I'm more into computers and stuff."

"That's pretty cool. I'm not much of a computer whiz myself, except for typing papers and video chatting friends back home," the teen replied, "but that's pretty impressive for someone who woke up in a new century three years ago."

"But we should be going inside," Uncle Jeffrey spoke up, calling Gilly over to his side. The dog instantly stopped playing and ran to her owner, and the ground trembled a little before Brooklyn was nearly knocked over by a large blue blur.

"Down, boy," Goliath ordered, and the dog-like gargoyle got off of the red gargoyle, looking over at Elijah. "Bronx, you remember Robbins and Gilly no doubt, and this is his nephew, Elijah."

"Nice to meet you," the teen said, kneeling down as the mute gargoyle-dog approached him, looking up at him with solid white eyes. "So you're Bronx; I heard you and Gilly are very good friends." The gargoyle nodded, holding out his head for the boy to scratch. Elijah smiled, indulging the gargoyle's request, and it gave a small hum of content. "You're pretty cool. Why don't you have wings? Or are they hidden?"

"He wasn't born with any," Brooklyn explained. "But he's still one of us through and through. Sorry he hasn't been to visit you sooner; he was waged in war against a group of pigeons that kept roosting near his spot, and he takes them very seriously." The dog-gargoyle, meanwhile, grinned as the boy continued to scratch behind his ears, eventually leaning forward a little to sniff the teen's hearing aids, giving them a curious look. "You better not break those, Bronx. He needs them to hear."

"Really," Angela asked, now staring at the tiny machines as well.

"It's nothing," Elijah assured them, looking a little embarrassed. "They just amplify the sound my ears receive to a level that I can hear. Without them, I wouldn't be able to hear anything; well, technically, I have _some _hearing, but it's very slight, and only when I hear really loud things like a sonic boom… but I haven't heard anything that loud before, so I need these."

"I may not agree with all human inventions," Goliath stated, "but I _am _pleased with how far they've come with devices like this. And devising a language that doesn't require verbal speech."

"That's amazing," Lexington spoke up. "I doubt I could ever do something like that, even if I _had_ five fingers!"

"You could still try if you wanted to," the teen replied. "I mean, Brooklyn's gotten several signs down, and he's getting better at understanding me when I do sign."

"I better be careful before they start having silent conversations with me in the room," Jeffrey spoke up, a small smile on his lips. "I may have good hearing, but I'm not _that _good!"

"Don't worry," Brooklyn assured him. "We'll try to keep those to a minimum."

"Agreed," Elijah added, both of them silently deciding to not mention that they already were having ASL conversations in front of the author. "Anyway, we were about to go inside?"

"Yes," his uncle agreed, and the group made their way inside the library and settled down to talk. Goliath, the teen noticed, stood by the door, ready to move at a moment's notice; he figured that even on a night off, the gargoyle couldn't help but be ready for an attack. Broadway stood behind the couch while Brooklyn, Angela and Elijah took the couch with Lex perched on the back of the couch; of course, Jeffrey and Hudson took their usual armchairs, and both dogs lay down by the chairs.

"I'm glad you were all able to come," the blind author said, kicking off the conversation as his nephew poured glasses of lemonade, passing them around to the gargoyles. "I know that the last time we met, it was after Hudson's operation, and only in passing; I'm glad we now have the chance to properly get to know one another."

"And we are thankful for the invitation," Goliath spoke up, accepting a glass from Elijah. "It is not often that we have a night off."

"So you guys just fly around the city fighting crime," Elijah asked, resuming his seat. "Like a superhero?"

"We don't fight crime, per se," Lexington explained from his perch on the back of the sofa. "We basically make sure that nothing major is going wrong in the city, as well as occasionally aid Talon's Clan in the Labryinth."

"I remember that place; Hudson told me about them," the boy replied. "They used to not like you guys, right?"

"Right, but we're all friends now; they're currently guarding Demona, too."

"She can't attack you guys, right? Since your home is protected, and she's locked up?" He'd heard from the gargoyles about the fierce, seemingly immortal she-gargoyle who was hell-bent on killing all the humans.

"Yeah. But she's secure; Talon and the others offered to look after her tonight so we could visit you," Angela spoke up.

"Thank you," the deaf teen replied, looking at the Clan as a whole. "You guys have a pretty eventful life from what Brooklyn and Hudson have told me."

"It _does_ usually end up that way," Goliath spoke up from his corner, the glass of lemonade looking almost out-of-place in his hand, still intimidating, but less so. "Whether we mean for it to or not."

"But at least it always turns out well in the end," Jeffrey spoke up. "Like now; you all are finally able to come here and visit the three of us."

"You have a nice house," Lex spoke up from his perch on the back of the sofa. "Kind of like Macbeth's, but less traps."

"And a lot of books," Broadway added, looking at one of the nearby shelves. "I guess you don't need a TV, Mr. Robbins, since you're blind and-"

"Broadway," Angela interrupted, giving him a warning look before he continued to insult their host.

"It's fine, Angela," the blind author replied, smiling a little. "While I don't really have need of a TV, I still keep one around to hear the news every now and then, as well as for Elijah. I keep it in the living room, though, leaving this room entirely dedicated to books."

"It's also where I study sometimes," Elijah added. "Not that I don't like the desk in my room; I just like the space of the living room."

"Not to mention watching reruns of old mystery films during the afternoon," his uncle asked, raising an eyebrow behind his glasses.

The teen gaped at him. "How did you-"

"When you've lived here as long as I have, you can tell when someone's doing their homework quietly versus trying to figure out whodunit."

"I never knew you liked mystery films," Brooklyn told the deaf teen.

"That's because I usually watch them the evenings y'all aren't here, and we were always busy reading and talking the evenings you were here; I guess it just slipped my mind." That wasn't exactly true, though; he liked watching mystery films by himself because he would be able to talk out loud to himself, solving the mystery before the detective did, without disturbing anyone else. "And Hudson said you guys watch a lot of TV and movies when you're at your home, so I didn't want to add to that."

"Could I see the TV, though," Lex asked. "Not to watch anything, but just see how it works?"

"I see no problem with that," Jeffrey spoke up, turning towards Hudson's general direction. "Unless you have any objections, Goliath."

"So long as he doesn't take apart the contraption or destroy it," the large gargoyle warned, and the small green one nodded.

"Can we come too," Broadway asked. "It'll give us a chance to see the kitchen if it's on the way."

"I don't see why not."

"I might as well come too," Brooklyn added. "I don't wanna be stuck with all the old-" He cut off as Hudson and Goliath glared at him while Jeffrey simply looked in his general direction with a passive expression. "I mean… I, uh… Let's go," he said quickly, leaping off the couch, leaving his unfinished glass of lemonade on the table as he, Elijah, and the other young gargoyles made their way out of the library.

..

"Smooth," Elijah told Brooklyn out in the hallway. "They're not even _that_ old!"

"I'm sorry," the red gargoyle replied sarcastically. "You wanna take over next time?"

"Where's the living room," Lex asked.

"Where's the _food,_" Broadway added, sniffing the air.

"Later," the teen told him, leading the group down the hall towards the living room.

The living room was slightly bigger than the library, but lacked the wall-to-wall bookshelves that the other room had. This room also had a few couches, armchairs, and a coffee table, as well as a fireplace not unsimilar to the one in the library. However, this room also included a TV that sat by the wall with one of the couches facing it, as well as a pretty decent sound system machine next to it that included a CD and cassette tape player, as well as a radio. On the opposite of the room were two large windows, revealing the dark countryside outside. Wallpaper covered the walls, along with several paintings.

"Sorry," Elijah said quickly, going over to the coffee table and scrambling to gather his homework and notebooks he was working on earlier. "Forgot I left this stuff out."

"This room is _beautiful,_" Angela said, admiring one of the paintings on the wall, which was of a simple sunset scene. "No wonder you like working in here so often."

"What's school like," Lex asked, going over to the couch and perching on the back of it; it seemed that he preferred to always put himself at a height closer to everyone else. "We've never been to one, but Elisa's told us all about it."

"She even made us watch some educational shows once to catch us up to speed with the world in science and stuff," Brooklyn added.

"Well, it's not like school in Texas, I can tell you," the teen told them, putting the last of his work in his backpack. "But basically, I have seven different classes a day, with a break for lunch. I'm required to take Math, English, Science, History and PE, but the other two are electives; they're extra classes I can take for fun."

"So what are you taking," Broadway asked.

"Right now, nothing. Apparently, I was supposed to sign up for those this past summer, but because I'm technically a state transfer, I wasn't able to. Right now I just have two study halls, but I need to choose something different by Monday."

"Got any idea of what you're gonna choose," Brooklyn asked.

"I don't know. I like having two study halls, since I have time to read and rest, but I can only keep one of them; I still need to choose one new class."

"What are your options?"

"I only have three, since the other ones are full since I'm signing up so late. Psychology-"

"What's that," the large gargoyle asked, admiring another painting along with his girlfriend.

"It's the study of what, how and why humans think from a scientific explanation."

"I'd take that class," Angela spoke up. "It sounds interesting."

"But I'd rather not take it," Elijah said, sitting down on one of the couches as Lex made his way over to the television set. "I heard it's super hard, and I already have enough homework as it is! My second choice is Floral Arrangements, which is basically a class on how to arrange flower bouquets."

"What classes did you take back in Galveston," the red gargoyle asked, a little startled by the second elective option.

"Study Hall and Orchestra; I played the piano."

"Really?"

"Yeah; my mom made me take lessons as a kid, but I kind of stopped playing outside of school. But Orchestra's not an option, and neither is band; the last choice is Choir."

"What's that," Lex asked from the TV set, examining it from all angles, as if studying a statue.

"Singing."

"So you can't sing?"

"It's not that I _can't _sing; my piano teacher used to say that I had a good sense of pitch, but it's just that I don't _want_ to sing. I'd have to perform in front of people for concerts, and I'm not a big fan of that."

"But surely you had to play the piano in front of people when you were in Texas," Angela spoke up. "We've seen orchestras playing in Central Park, and there's almost always a piano player there."

"Off to the side," Elijah added. "And playing a piano in front of people is a lot different from singing in front of people!" He sighed, rubbing his face in exasperation. "Maybe Psychology won't be that bad…"

A sudden blast of sound came from the TV, and everyone jumped in surprise as some show was playing on the TV. The small green gargoyle quickly turned off the TV, giving everyone a sheepish look. "Sorry…"

"Who's music collection is this," Angela asked, examining a few tapes and CDs by the stereo.

"Some of them are mine," the deaf teen replied, walking over to the gargoyle and pointing to the tape in her hands. "That one's my Country tape; a friend back home gave it to me before I left. It has all of my favorite country songs on it."

"Can we hear it?"

The boy hesitated; that tape was something given to him after his parents died. It was something he listened to by himself when he wanted to think about home, and it wasn't something he was ready to share. "Uh… not right now," he said, quickly looking through the nearby tray of tapes. "But how about this?" He held up a tape and a pair of headphones, turning towards the other gargoyles. "It's a game I used to play with my friends back at home; one of us listens to a song on the headphones while everyone else tries to guess what it is."

"But how would we even know where to start guessing," Broadway asked.

"We would usually sign along with it so-" Elijah cut off, realizing the flaw in his plan. "But… none of you know sign language…" An awkward silence followed this statement, and everyone waited for someone to say something new so they could move on.

"I know," Brooklyn spoke up. "How fast can you translate what you hear into signing?"

"I dunno; depends on how fast the person is talking, but usually it's about a one or two second delay. Why do you-" He stopped talking as he realized what the gargoyle's idea was, and he broke into a large grin. "But if I know the song, I'll pretty much almost be word for word."

"Excellent!"

"What's going on," Lexington asked.

"Let's just say you're about to be impressed," Elijah told him, flexing his fingers and wriggling them around. "Now let's go!"

* * *

**Hudson POV:**

"I know that you're not expectin' this," Hudson said, managing to find a break in their discussion, "but besides comin' here tonight… Goliath and I need ta ask a favor of ye."

Robbins leaned forward in his chair a little, the fire's glow reflecting off his sunglasses. "Now _this_ is surprising; I take it you didn't want the others to know?"

"We think that it'd be best if they were kept in the dark for the moment," Goliath spoke up, now standing in between the two armchairs. "I was planning on coming up with an excuse for them to leave, but Lexington beat me to it."

"So what _is_ this favor you need," the blind author asked.

The two gargoyles gave each other a quick glance before Hudson cleared his throat. "We… we found somethin'. Or at least Xanatos did; he found an old map a couple months ago that led to some sort of artifact hidden in France… somethin' that, in the wrong hands, could mean the end of the world."

"What is it?"

"According to legend, it's a small stone that gives the wielder a vast amount of power," Goliath cut in. "It's known as the Fourth Eye of Mab. We don't know what it exactly does to the individual, but stories said that most people who received it were unable to handle the amount of power they receive, and act possessed, eventually driven mad before dying; that's why Xanatos made sure that no one touched it with their bare hands."

"It sounds like the Eye of Odin."

"Yes," Hudson agreed, "but it makes the Eye of Odin look like a children's toy. Mab is supposed to be Oberon's mother, but he defeated her long ago, and rules Avalon in her place."

"So you want me to be your lab rat and see what happens if someone does touch it," Robbins asked jokingly.

"Nay… we wanted ta know if we could hide it here." The author's eyebrows raised in surprise, and the aged gargoyle continued. "Xanatos, whether we like him or not, has enemies, as do we; already someone tired ta take the stone from the group he sent to retrieve it. If he hides it in his building, our home is in danger, and he can't leave it in any of his other homes or buildings, since he won't be there to protect it, and most people who would want it would think to go there."

"We figured," Goliath added, "that since no one knows of your friendship with us, you could hide it here and no one would be the wiser. You could hide it under a floorboard or somewhere else you see fit; we just want to make sure that it's with someone we trust. That is another reason we decided to bring it here; we need to make sure Xanatos wouldn't be tempted to use it."

"Xanatos approved this," Jeffrey asked.

"Aye, thought it took quite a bit of convincin'."

The author seemed deep in thought, and the two gargoyles weren't sure what he was thinking of doing; his face betrayed nothing. The only sign of movement from him was the slight tap of his cane on the floor. They could probably guess what he was thinking; if anyone _did_ find out that he was connected with them, they might come here and tear the house apart in search of the gem, threatening him and his nephew. And there was the issue of temptation to use the stone; they wouldn't be surprised if the blind man said no. Eventually, however, he finally looked up. "I'll do it. Did you bring it with you tonight?"

The gargoyles gave small sighs of relief. "Thank ye, Robbins," Hudson said, reaching for a small pouch on his belt. "We put it in a small bag so ye don't have ta worry about accidentally touchin' it. Here." He held out the pouch to the author, placing it in his outstretched hand. The man felt the bag in his hands, including the small round object in the middle of it, but he was careful not to undo the drawstrings that kept it closed. He then put it in his pocket.

"I'll keep it safe," he promised them, "but not as a favor; you and your clan owe me nothing for this. And I won't tell Elijah, and I don't want you or anyone else telling him, either; I fear it might be too much of a temptation for him if he knew, and while I recall you mentioning that Brooklyn will someday become the next leader of the clan, I don't think he should tell Elijah."

"We understand," Goliath nodded. "And we don't plan on telling the others unless absolutely necessary."

"But speakin' of the others," Hudson added, "it's about time we all got together again." He sniffed the air. "I believe yer dinner's ready."

"You're right," the author agreed, feeling his watch and getting to his feet as Gilly and Bronx stirred awake. "I guess they're still in the living room."

Even before stepping into the hall, they could hear the music coming from the other room. By the time they reached the door, it was pretty loud, so they were able to open the door a crack without being heard.

An impromptu dance party was happening in the living room; the stereo over by the TV was playing some infernal human hip-hop song (Hudson wasn't sure which one; most human music sounded the same to him. Brooklyn and Lex were each dancing on their own, laughing and singing along with the song while Broadway and Angela were dancing together, the former picking his girlfriend up and spinning her around as she laughed. But the most interesting part was Elijah, who stood on the coffee table, appearing to sign the words to the song as he and the others sang along with it. It was impressive to watch, especially given the fast pace of the song, but the teen was managing to keep up, laughing and singing along with the young gargoyles, all of them oblivious to the group at the door.

"A-ha's _Take on Me,_" Jeffrey spoke up, recognizing the song and smiling a little. "A fine choice."

"Should we leave them be," Hudson asked. He turned towards Goliath, waiting to see what he would say, not sure how he would respond.

Goliath simply stared at the group, stony-face, before a small file crossed his lips. "I say we give them until this song ends." He looked down at the author. "But it looks like Elijah's getting along with everyone, and they with him."

"I'm happy to hear that," the author replied. "I knew they would be good friends."

"Aye," Hudson added, turning back towards the living room. He couldn't help but be amazed at how drastically the young boy had changed over the past two months; he'd really opened up, and no longer gave him or Brooklyn any scared or nervous looks. The deaf boy, while he still wasn't completely used to his new home, he appeared to be accepting New York more and more each day. "I'm glad they are."

* * *

**And FINALLY, we have our first magical item that will provide action and help drive the story forward! Hooray! _Now_ you understand why I wanted to post this chapter today! Small note: it's not a real item from the show, but rest assured other magical items from _Gargoyles_ will make appearances as well!**

**Feel free to follow or favorite this story or my profile to be updated on new chapters, and feel free to leave a review on this chapter or others if you want.**

**And, as usual, have a safe and happy week/weekend!**

**-aggiefrogger**

**NOTE: I do NOT own A-ha or _Take On Me_ in ANY way, shape or form!**


	8. Chapter 8

**Welcome back, Readers!**

**So apparently people, including the creator of Gargoyles, Greg Weisman, are taking to Twitter to get Disney to either reboot or make a movie of the original series. I'm all for it, though the original will always have a special place in my heart. I wonder what would happen if Greg Weisman actually read this... if he even _reads_ fanfiction, that is. If he _is_ reading this, I hope he doesn't think I've done a bad job! ****And hi! **

**Also #KeepBingingGargoyles is the Twitter Tag if anyone's interested.**

**Also, re-watched some Gargoyles, remembered a few characters that inspired me for future chapters, so look out for some familiar faces in the chapters to come! **

**Enjoy!**

* * *

**Monday of Miseries and Maniacalness:**

**Elijah POV:**

"Are you kidding me," Elijah asked.

"I rarely kid," the student counselor replied, giving him a steely look. "The Psychology class is filled up; another transfer student took the last spot."

The deaf teen leaned back in his chair, wondering why he seemed to have the worst luck in the world; it could only happen to him that he'd go to the counselor's office and she'd tell him his choice of class was now filled. While he hated all three of his elective credit choices, at least Psychology was the lesser evil. But now he only had two choices left-

"Floral Arrangements or Choir." The counselor looked up from her computer. "I assume you'll take Choir?"

He sighed. "I guess so."

..

Elijah hesitated outside of the Choir Room door, even though he had about a minute until the bell rang for the final period. He knew that he had to go in there, eventually and that the sooner he did it, the sooner he could get the worst over with. So, taking a deep breath, he pushed open the door.

The room was large, probably for the acoustics, and several hand-made posters, all about music notes and such, covered parts of the wall around the room, and he saw that everyone left their backpacks by the walls, which he did as well. In the middle of the room, facing the wall where the entrance was, was a set of risers set up in a half-circle, facing a single podium. Off to the side, the teen noticed a grand piano, way nicer than the one he had played in Orchestra in Galveston. At the moment, about sixteen students sat on the risers, talking and laughing and being regular teens as they waited for class to start, a few looked up at his entrance, whispering to their friends, but the deaf boy ignored them, going over to the nearest available section of riser and sitting down, refusing to look at anyone. He still heard whispering, so he switched off his hearing aids, bringing him into that familiar sense of silence. Though he didn't want to be here, he couldn't help but look at the piano off to the side, wondering what it would be like to play something as grand as that.

Sensing everyone climbing to their feet, Elijah quickly stood up as well, turning his hearing aids back on. He noticed a woman had entered the room, presumably the Choir teacher, and she took her spot at the podium. She seemed like a kind person, but with the glasses perched on the bridge of her nose, she gave off a, "Do not test me," feeling; her brown and slightly-graying hair was tied in a ponytail behind her, and she wore a practically hideous sweater. This was confirmed when she started speaking.

"Settle down, everyone" she said in a loud, clear voice, causing all conversation to fall silent. Then, as if she had magnets in her eyes, she swiveled to face him. "You."

Elijah started at the sudden statement. "Uh… me?"

"No, the wall behind you. Yes, you! Who are you?"

"I… I'm new-"

"Obviously!"

A few snickers followed this statement, and flushed with embarrassment, the teen found the courage to continue. "I'm Elijah Robbins," he said. "I'm a new student in this class."

"Can you sing?"

"No."

"Then why the heck are you here," she asked, earning a few more laughs from the other students. It was obvious this teacher was one of those that liked to humiliate her pupils in front of their peers, and didn't hold back when she did.

"Because… Because…" Why _was_ he here? Because some stupid school wouldn't let him take two Study Halls so he had to take stupid Choir, that's why. That, combined with the giggles from the other classmates, made him snap, "Well, if you can't teach me to sing, then what kind of a choir teacher are you?"

_That_ shut everyone up, including the teen himself, who froze where he stood, wondering why he had just said what he said. He could feel everyone's gaze on him, but he only focused on the one coming from the choir teacher; steely, cold, and devoid of mercy.

_Looks like I'm going to Floral,_ he thought to himself.

Just then, a commotion came from the front door, and everyone turned to find a girl rushing in, tossing her backpack towards the wall.

"I'm so sorry I'm late, Mrs. Flemming," the girl said, walking briskly towards the stands. "I had to stay late for my last class, and-" The girl's excuse cut off as she gaped at the newest member of the Choir, and he at her.

Yes, Blockbuster Amanda had returned.

Just his luck. Especially when Mrs. Flemming realized that they knew each other.

"You know this boy, Ms. Ross?"

The stunned girl turned away from him to face the choir teacher. "I… I just… yeah?"

"Oh, why must everyone answer my question with a question? This isn't _Jeopardy!_" She sighed, turning back to her podium. "I will say this for you, Mr. Robbins: you've got something pretty interesting if you can stand there and insult me on your first day here. Most teachers would kick you from their class." She turned to face him, giving him a small smile. "But I think you'll find I'm not like most teachers. Stay after class and we will find out your vocal range; for now, stand there while the rest of us go through our first exercise." Pulling out one of those pitch harmonica things, she added, "Ms. Ross, I would suggest you find your proper place before you become glued to that one!" Amanda, blushing a bit and giving Elijah one last look, ran to the risers, standing about eight people away from Elijah.

"Now," the choir director said, playing a middle C. "Let us begin!"

..

**Amanda POV:**

After Choir, I hung around the outside of the classroom, waiting. I don't know why I did, the guy didn't seem to particularly like me (which I could kind of understand), but I felt that I needed to, for some reason. Maybe it was because he seemed so clueless about Choir, or maybe because of his first encounter with the Flaming Flemming. Either way, I felt that he needed someone to show him the ropes; at least it was better than whatever Art would have done to him.

A few of the other Choir kids told me what Elijah had said to Mrs. Flemming, and I had to admit that he had to either be incredibly brave, stupid, or both to stand up to her. As for why he was in the class… I had no idea; if he sang, he sure didn't sing today, and didn't even seem interested in ever doing so; the only part of the class I noticed him pay attention at was when Mrs. Flemning sat at the piano to play scales. Whatever his deal was, I saw that it was now ten minutes after school, and I needed to get home. Preparing to leave, I heard the Choir Room door open.

"Ms. Ross, you're still here," Mrs. Felmming asked, walking out with her bag and followed by Elijah, who looked at me in surprise. "Don't tell me you two are dating!"

"WHAT," Elijah and I said at the same time, our shocked expressions only receiving a nod in return.

"I thought not," the choir director said, turning back to Elijah. "You do have _some_ skill on a piano, I'll give you that, but if you want to play for us, you'll need extra practice. Do you have a piano or, dare I ask, a _keyboard_ at your house?" Everyone knew she hated those electronic devices, saying that they could never replace an authentic piece.

"Uh… n-no ma'am," he replied, looking anywhere but her or me. However, I recognized the look in the teacher's eyes; she was up to something, and it probably didn't mean anything good for me or Elijah.

"Fine, then; you may practice on ours after school on Wednesdays." She turned to me. "I will supervise those sessions. Ms. Ross here will help you get adjusted to our class and catch you up on proper classroom behavior. Understood?"

"I… I… Yes ma'am." The teen gave me a small glare, as if it were my fault that I was stuck helping him.

"You will show him not only how to behave," the teacher continued, now turning back to me, "you will have the task of helping him adjust to our group and help him strengthen his voice." Mrs. Flemming turned back to Elijah. "Just because you get to play the piano doesn't mean you don't have to sing; you have one of the best Tenors I've ever heard, so I'd be an idiot to not use you!" She looked at both of our shocked expressions, and smiled. "Don't look like that; I could make it a grade, if you wanted." We both quickly shook our heads no. "Then stop looking like someone died and get over it! Got it?"

"Yes, ma'am," we chorused, both of us refusing to make eye contact with her or each other

"Excellent!" The teacher started to make her way down the hall, but turned back to give Elijah one last look. "And Elijah, if you think of trying to transfer to Floral Arrangements, know that I teach that class too! Have a nice day!" The woman, now content with the destruction she'd caused, turned and left, disappearing down the hallway.

For a few moments, Elijah and I stood in silence, staring after where she'd disappeared. It was almost comical watching how quickly she'd come up with the plan; no doubt she'd been thinking of it during class today. Now, however, was the aftermath; I know Elijah wasn't happy, and I wasn't either, since I never asked for a piano accompaniment. Eventually, however, I turned to him, feeling I should say something. "So…" I started. "Um… are you okay?"

He turned to me, giving me a look that was both shocked and almost disgusted, before starting down the hall. Figuring I should follow him, I raced to catch up with his quick strides.

"Hey, I'm sorry," I started to say.

"That's all you have to say," he asked, stopping and turning back to face me, clearly angry. "Because of you, I'm stuck singing _in_ public _and_ in front of people, _AND_ I have to spend time with the girl who thought hearing aids kept me deaf!"

I could take him being mad at me for being the person Flemming caught at the wrong time, but when he brought up Blockbuster, I got mad. "Don't get mad at _me!_ I was just waiting to see how you did; it's not my fault you joined the stupid class! Sorry for waiting out here to see if you were doing okay," I told him. "I _was_ going to offer to help you learn how to deal with Flemming, but it looks like it would've fallen on _deaf ears!_"

It was a little satisfying to see his face, looking like he'd just been slapped, but he quickly turned it back into an angry one. "So you're gonna sink that low now?"

"If you're not gonna respect me," I told him. "Right now, whether we like it or not, we're stuck together, so the sooner I show you how to survive the class, the sooner we can be on our merry ways! So can we just agree to help one another out so we don't fail?" I glared back at him, almost daring him to say no and let us both flunk the class; because she would fail us, if given the chance, and this seemed like one of those times.

"Fine," the deaf teen replied testily, realizing the same thing. "But for the record, I'm not a fan of this."

"That makes two of us! And to think, I thought that you were _actually_ a nice person when you apologized to me for flipping me off!"

"Sorry to disappoint," Elijah replied, the teen turning away, briskly walking down the hall before he disappeared around the corner; at least he didn't flip me off or say anything bad about me in sign language. I stared after him, thinking about how I now had to help the new kid (who was deaf, no less, meaning that he drew attention to himself whether he wanted it or not) deal with a psychopath for a teacher, and I have to help him sing in front of people, which he apparently doesn't want to do. And he hates me.

I hate Mondays.

..

**Jeffrey POV:**

Jeffrey finally found the perfect place to hid the stone. It took a lot of thought, as well as feeling around for the proper place, but he did it; he hid the stone, so all he had to do was hope that one came knocking, looking for it.

When Hudson and Goliath had asked him if he'd hid the magic stone that could drive a man mad, he almost said no. It wasn't that he was scared of people breaking into his home looking for it, but he was scared that he would be too tempted to use it for himself. His eyesight. His brother. Worldwide acceptance of the gargoyles. Even Elijah's deafness, which he could tell was still something of a sore subject for him. But, he said yes.

Why?

Because, while he would like to have the power to make things right, he knew that based on what he'd heard about the stone, as well as magical items in books, he knew that when someone said a magical item would leave him off worse than he is now, then he shouldn't mess with it. Besides, it would probably give him what he wanted, but at some terrible price. Sure, was it dumb to rely on that mentality to protect him from temptation? Well, where he hid it would definitely prevent him from trying to reach it again; he nearly broke his leg from falling off the table (which reminded him why you shouldn't stand on furniture). But, he knew that it would only bring trouble to his friends if they kept it, and since he was known to sacrifice his own good for that of others, he said yes.

Was it a misjudgment on his part?

One could only wait and see.

* * *

_That night, in a warehouse in Manhattan…_

"It _has_ to be in the Eyrie Building," one of the men said. "It's the most protected building of his, so it makes sense that he would keep it there."

"But he's still a business," another member spoke up from the other end of the table. "And even his defenses have limits; he could not take on multiple attacks and risk his livelihood at the same time."

"Aren't we forgetting that Xanatos is a member of this society like the rest of us," a third member spoke up. "If necessary, we could bring him before the Council and try him for treason!" Everyone started talking at once, opinions flying across the room.

"Brothers," the leader said from the head of the table, silencing them. "You both make excellent points, but until we learn more information, we will not attack. However, I wanted to hear from Brother Steward about our little… problem."

The brother stood up, careful not to trip over the hem of his robes as he addressed the group. "They've been spotted flying around the city almost every night," he told the group. "Never alone, and always a different route. They only stop to rest occasionally and to stop a petty mugging, but other than that, they keep to themselves." Abrupt discussions started from all sides of the table, but their leader called them to silence. "But in other news, we learned that two of them occasionally go somewhere north of the city; we can never follow them efficiently because of the quick wind currents."

"Macbeth," a brother suggested. "He lives in that general area; do you think the stone is with him?"

The leader looked thoughtful at this, tapping a finger on the table. "Perhaps… it would make the most sense, but we will not attack without certainty; he could still be visiting someone else. What we need is someone we can use as leverage; someone not protected by them that they care about.." He stood up. "Everyone continue your lives; you will be informed of the next meeting. And we need someone to travel up to the towns north of the city to try and track them."

"Wait," the treasurer asked. "What about the current fund report?"

"Unless you spent 2.7 billion in the past six days, we should be fine," their leader said. "But, if you do find someone to use as leverage, then I suggest you make sure they have someone who would pay to get them back in either cash or a gargoyle." He held up his hand, displaying the small Illuminati ring on his finger. "Shall we close?" Everyone else agreed, getting up and holding up their hands with rings as well, soon starting to chant in English and Latin.

* * *

**Yes! Ladies and Gentlemen, the Illuminati has arrived! Of course, being a secret organization, it's gonna be in the background here and there, but just knowing that it's there is half the fun! Also, I hope you enjoyed Amanda's POV; I thought it'd be interesting to occasionally switch to her view of things, so stay tuned for more to come!**

**Of course, I hope you enjoyed this installment of the story. Feel free to follow and favorite the story if you don't already, and feel free to leave a review on this chapter or others in the story. And, as always, have a happy and safe week/weekend!**

**-aggiefrogger**

**Note: I do NOT own Greg Weisman, Disney, Disney Plus, The ****Illuminati, Twitter or #KeepBingingGargoyles in ANY way, shape or form!**


	9. Chapter 9

**Hey Readers and Gargoyles Fans!**

IMPORTANT MESSAGE:** For those of you that have been reading this story since I first published it, or if you've started reading it after CHAPTER 1, then read this! ****I have REWRITTEN the entire first eight chapters so that instead of the story taking place after Season Three, it now takes place following the Season 2 and Comic timeline, which is the canon story line.**** Sorry it took me so long to finally correct my earlier error of the time, but know that this story now started in July 1996, NOT 1997, and that some events from the show and comics will now be a part of this story! So you know this story just gotta whole lot better.**

**Okay, message over. Enjoy this chapter; doing something different, as you'll see below! To briefly explain, it is a collection of short stories instead of one overall chapter. They are broken up by story.**

* * *

**Loser Gets to Go Gliding**

"No way," Elijah said, shaking his head no. "I've changed my mind!"

"C'mon," Brooklyn told him. "It's perfectly safe."

"Famous last words," Lex muttered.

"Not helping!"

The trio of friends stood outside in the backyard behind Robbins' house, the wind blowing strongly around them. Elijah, meanwhile, was starting to regret making a bet with a gargoyle and losing; apparently, Brooklyn was pretty good at video games, and now the boy had to face his punishment.

"I don't care if the wind's strong enough," the deaf teen told him, "I'm not flying into the sky just because you beat me by 100 points!"

"You have to," the red gargoyle told him. "You lost fair and square; if I'd lost, I'd be signing for the rest of the evening, but I didn't, so suck it up!"

"And technically," the green gargoyle told him, "we don't fly; we glide on the air currents."

"Oh, so you're basically falling slowly" the deaf boy questioned.

"Remember ta adjust for the extra weight," Hudson called out, he and Jeffrey coming out to watch what would happen, and make sure that Elijah was safe. "If ye don't, you'll drop him."

"_What?!_ That's it," the teen started to say, making his way towards the house. "Bet or no bet, I'm not gonna risk my life and-" He found Bronx blocking his path, whimpering and trying to nudge him towards the younger gargoyles. "No," he told Bronx, trying to shoo him away. "Not you too! Why do you even care; you can't even fly!" The dog-gargoyle growled at that, but remained adamant, pushing him back towards Brooklyn, giving him a death glare.

"It'll be fine," Brooklyn assured him. "We're stronger than we look; I've carried two people at once before."

"And besides," Lexington added, "you came outside earlier, meaning you secretly want to see what gliding's like; you're probably just having cold feet."

"What- Since when did you become a psychologist," the deaf boy demanded, turning towards the younger gargoyle.

"Since I needed to distract you long enough for Brooklyn to grab you."

"Wha-" He felt someone grab his shoulders, propping him up by wrapping their arms underneath his armpits.

"Try not to scream," the red gargoyle told him, suddenly shooting into the sky, carrying him along.

"How's he doing so far," Jeffrey asked, unable to see how his nephew was doing. In response, a loud scream echoed through the night, somewhere high above them.

"He's fine," Lex assured him. "But I think he'll probably be playing video games more often to improve his game!"

* * *

**Try and Stay Awake**

_"'I like to see an angry Englishman,' said Poirot. 'They are very amusing. The more emotional they feel the less command they have of language.'"_ Hudson paused while reading the paragraph to take another sip of his iced tea before continuing.

The nighttime reading group had now moved onto Agatha Christie's _Murder on the Orient Express_ (per Elijah's suggestion), and right now, it was the aged gargoyle's turn to read. By now, he was good at reading, though he sometimes hesitated before certain words, and his accent made some parts of the story more difficult to understand. However, no one complained, and listened with rapt attention. Well, _almost_ everybody.

Elijah, though he enjoyed the book (it was a mystery classic with an ending most first-time readers never saw coming), the book was currently at an uninteresting part, and the old gargoyle's monotone reading was starting to get to him. He sat on the floor, leaning against the couch as he scratched behind Bronx's ears; even the gargoyle-dog was starting to get tired, his eyes drooping. Brooklyn had patrol that night, so he couldn't have a silent conversation with his friend, so he tried to amuse himself until the chapter ended; then it would be his turn to read.

First, he tried signing the entire alphabet with his right hand, since his left was still petting Bronx. It got boring after four or five times, so he decided to try something else. He took a sip of his iced tea, letting one of the ice cubes sit on his tongue, seeing how long he could last before it hurt too much. Five seconds, and now his tongue was numb. Elijah looked over at his uncle, wondering how the heck he was still awake, then down at Gilly, who slept peacefully by her master's side. The deaf teen sighed, wondering how he'd make it to the next chapter without falling asleep.

And he didn't. When Hudson finally finished reading, he looked over at the teen, finding him passed out next to a now asleep Bronx.

"They've fallen asleep," he told Jeffrey.

"Well it is nearly midnight," the blind author told him. "I guess Elijah must've been pretty tired."

"Aye, but what's Bronx's excuse?" He got up from his chair, going over to the sleeping gargoyle and nudging him awake. "Thanks fer listenin' so intently, Bronx." The gar-dog woke with a start, giving the old gargoyle a whimper and a apologetic look. The tan gargoyle tried to stay angry, but he couldn't. "You're makin' me soft-hearted," he complained, going over to the door. "I think we'll be leavin' now; Elijah'll want ta hear the rest of the story, and we'll might be able to catch the end of our show if we leave now."

"I agree," Jeffrey replied, making to get out of his chair. "I'll wake him up so you can say goodbye."

"No need for that; he looks pretty tired." Hudson walked over to the asleep teen, picked him up, and placed him gently on the couch, grabbing the nearby afgahn blanket and spreading it over the teen. "I think he'll be sleepin' in here tonight."

"Thank you, Hudson."

"No trouble at all. Come, Bronx." As the winged gargoyle left the room, the blue one followed, pausing only to nudge Elijah's hand before he left.

"I might as well hit the sack," the author said to himself, getting to his feet and feeling around for the glasses. On his way out of the room, he paused, reaching over the edge of the couch and putting a hand on his nephew's shoulder.

"Goodnight," he whispered, standing there for a moment before leaving the room, Gilly not far behind.

* * *

**A Quiet Night at the Clock Tower**

Brooklyn roared as the stone skin broke off of him, falling in pieces around him as he woke up on his usual perch. Around him, the others were awakening as well, and he did a quick head count to make sure everyone was there; while they doubted that they would be attacked in their sleep on top of the police building, there was always the chance that someone would find a way.

"Elisa," Angela said happily, and everyone turned to find their first friend standing nearby, wearing her usual red jacket and giving them all a smile.

"Have a nice sleep," she asked.

"Definitely," Broadway replied. "What's in the bag?"

"Just a few gifts for you all," she replied, opening the backpack. "That movie you all wanted to see finally came out on VHS."

"YES," Lex cheered, accepting the tape from Elisa. "_'Revenge of the Killer Robots Part Seven!'_"

"I hear it's the best one," Broadway added, looking at it with an air of awe.

"Now if that isn't the most idiotic-sounding movie I've ever heard of," Goliath commented.

"For Hudson and Bronx," the detective continued, giving the tan gargoyle a box of earl grey tea and the blue gargoyle another soccer ball, since he pretty much destroyed the last one, and because he kept swallowing the tennis balls.

"Thank ye, lass," the old gargoyle grinned. "I was runnin' low." Bronx, meanwhile, was already starting to chew the ball, indicating its soon to be short lifespan.

"And for Brooklyn," she added, pulling out a large book, "the dictionary you were looking for."

"Why would you need a dictionary," the small green gargoyle asked, figuring a book couldn't compare to the masterpiece that was _ROTKR Seven._

"It's an ASL dictionary," he explained, holding up the cover. "It has pictures and instructions on how to sign words. Thanks, Elisa!"

"No problem," she told him. "But when do I get to meet this mysterious friend of yours? Are you guys gonna show him the castle?"

"Perhaps," Goliath said, "but we should check with his uncle first; he wants to make sure Elijah is properly situated and used to his new school before allowing a visit her to distract him."

"Understandable," the detective replied, looking over at Broadway, who had taken the tape from Lex and was holding it out of his reach. "Be careful, it's a rental," she called out to them.

"I'll stop them," Angela said patiently, going over to break the two apart.

"How do you sign 'movie,'" Brooklyn muttered to himself, flipping through the pages of the dictionary as Hudson and Bronx made their way into the attic of the Clock Tower.

"How do you like your gift, Goliath," Elisa asked him.

"What… gift," he asked, clearly confused.

"Well, those three'll be watching that movie, Hudson'll be having some earl grey and either fall asleep or go visit the Robbins', Bronx'll pretty much destroy that bal then pass outl, and Brooklyn here'll be studying. I just gave you a peaceful and quiet evening; you did say you wanted to finish that book from the library without anyone interrupting you."

He couldn't help but smile as he realized she was right. "Thank you."

"Now I gotta go," she said, pulling the backpack over her shoulders, "but we'll talk soon, okay?"

"Fine, he said, giving her a small wave as she left, thankful for her friendship and kindness.

"So that's how you sign it," the red gargoyle said, walking off with the book in one hand, his other waving through the air. Goliath gave him one last look before heading towards the library, ready for a peaceful night of reading.

* * *

**Mrs. Flemming's Request**

"At least your scales have improved," Mrs. Flemming told him, sitting on a stool nearby and sipping some tea. "Again."

Elijah sighed; Wednesdays, which were the days he spent an hour after school practicing the piano with the Choir Director, were now his least favorite day, and this was only the third lesson. He also was starting to seriously consider dropping trying to play piano for the choir, since it meant an extra hour of having to deal with the most nit-picking person on the face of the Earth. However, knowing he couldn't leave the class (though he weekly checked the front office for any news of an opening in another class), he started to play the scales again, focusing on not making a mistake.

_This is insulting,_ he thought, his fingers moving across the keys. _I've been playing for over six years, and she still insists on making me play nothing but scales!_ Maybe it was just some form of torture for him for talking back at her on his first day in the class; he made a mental note to never be rude to a teacher again. Then, he remembered he didn't even want to be here right now, and wondered why he cared what kind of practice she was making him do.

"Well, you _are_ improving," she told him when he finished, getting up from her stool and grabbing a packet from a nearby music stand, placing it in front of him. "Try a song from here."

_"'The Greatest Hits of Elton John,'"_ he read, shocked that she was finally giving him a song to play, but also surprised by the music choice.

"A remarkable pianist," she told him. "Play the opening of _Rocket Man._"

Elijah opened the packet to the right page, and felt his heart sink; it wasn't the most complicated piece, but there was no way he would be able to play it well enough on the first try. Even with the slow tempo, he needed time to get the tune in his head, since he'd never heard the song before, but the Choir teacher didn't look like she would give him that time.

"I… I can't play this," he told her.

"Why not," Mrs. Flemming asked, arching an eyebrow at him. "Too difficult?"

"No… I just… I can't play it."

"That sounds like quitter talk," she told him, walking over to where he was, giving him a few seconds notice as she set her mug on the edge of the piano and sat on the bench next to him. "I assume you're the type who needs to hear the tune first before playing?"

" … Y-Yes," he stammered, not just thrown off by her suddenly sitting next to him as he scooted as far as he could away from her, but also at how she somehow knew that he usually preferred to know what a song sounded like before playing it.

"Once again," she muttered, "I have to do everything." Flexing her fingers, she started to play the slow song, the notes filling the choir room with the sweet melody. Elijah had to admit that it sounded good, and he alternated looking at the teacher's hands and the notes, trying to make sure he didn't miss anything. She played the entire first page before getting up from the stool and grabbing her tea. "Now you play."

The deaf teen slid into the middle part of the bench, feeling slightly more confident in his abilities. Scanning the page, he placed his fingers on the right keys before he started to play. He was a lot slower than the teacher was, and he got a few wrong notes here and there, but he kept playing, the Choir Director standing nearby, silently judging him. When he finished, he looked up at her, waiting for her to say something, and she wasted no time.

"That was rough," Mrs. Flemming said bluntly. "But there is some promise, and I use that word very lightly. Now, I assume Amanda told you about our first concert in early November?"

"Yes," Elijah replied, starting to get a bad feeling at where this was going.

"Well, that leaves about six weeks for you to learn to play this song perfectly," she told him. "I believe you can, and you will, since I'm making it a grade."

_I figured as much,_ the teen thought.

"I think we're good for today," she continued, looking at the clock. "I'll give you the rest of the half-hour to do whatever it is you find to occupy your time after school. Please tell me you at least read."

"Yes," he replied shortly, getting to his feet. "I read books."

"Good; because Lord knows if anyone your age even knows what a book is with those new electronic contraptions they've set up in the school library." The teen remembered something about them adding four new computers to the library, but kept silent. "Well, try to listen to the whole song if you can, and try to find a piano to practice on, even if it is electronic." She shuddered at the thought, put on her coat, and walked toward the door. "Make sure you turn the light off on your way out." And with that, like a bat out of hell, she was gone.

"Okay," Elijah said to himself, closing the music book and putting it in his backpack. "Now she's gone from crazy to just plain confusing." However, glad that he was finally free, he quickly left the room, making sure to turn out the lights before closing the door.

* * *

**Lucky Number 13**

Mason Grant may be a number 13 in the Illuminati, but he sure wasn't unlucky.

When a Number 5 had given him the job of going to the towns north of New York, he knew that he would find something worthwhile to the organization. That's why they sent him; something about him allowed him to find the right people that suited the Illuminati's needs. It was always their eyes; he could tell by their eyes their hopes, dreams, and most importantly, their secrets. If someone had a secret, he would know, and find it out. And, if gargoyles were visiting somewhere up here, then that would be a pretty important secret for someone to keep.

In the meantime, however, he needed a cover that would allow him to be in the area without drawing too much attention to himself. Of course, there was the Help Wanted section of the newspaper, but being in the Illuminati means that one had access to every Job Agency on the planet. All he needed was the right one.

"'Driver wanted for disabled individual. Weisman, New York. Flexible hours, good pay, and paid vacation.'" The man looked to see who was requesting the driver. "'Jeffrey Robinson,'" he read, recognizing the name of the famous author. Sure, it might be a little dangerous working for a celebrity, even if a small one, but he'd have access to a car, as well as an excuse to drive around that part of the state: to get acquainted with the countryside, towns... and their inhabitants.

"Perfect," he grinned, grabbing the nearby phone and dialing the number.

* * *

**I hope you liked this chapter! Thought I'd do something different with the short stories instead of one chapter story arc.**

**The next chapter in the story will take place in late October of 1996; Gargoyles fans will know that this is the end of the TV show story line (Hunter's Moon Part 3). and the beginning of the comic story line. No spoilers; just thought you all deserved a heads-up.**

**Some of you are probably also wondering if me changing my story to fit the canon Gargoyles timeline means that it will now feature characters from the comics and include certain events that aren't in the TV show. The answer is yes, of course. For those that don't know about the events, then some will be pleasant surprises in store for them, and those that know about these events should be prepared to see how they differ since Elijah is a part of the story.**

**Feel free to follow or favorite this story or my profile to be updated on new chapters, and feel free to leave a review on this chapter or others if you want. ****And, as usual, have a safe and happy week/weekend!**

**-aggiefrogger**

**Note: I do NOT own Murder on the Orient Express, Agatha Christie, Hercule ****Poirot, Elton John or Rocketman in ANY way, shape or form!**


	10. Chapter 10

**Hello again, Readers!**

**Here's the first multi-chapter story arc! For those of you that've read the comics, you know how interesting this particular Halloween is, and are probably wondering how Elijah's presence is gonna effect the events of the evening. If you don't know, you'll probably be wondering what's gonna happen next! Of course, whichever you are, you'll have to read and find out!**

**Also, I'm already at ten chapters! Seems just like yesterday I started this fiction! I hope you guys have enjoyed it so far!**

* * *

**Halloween: Part One**

**Elijah POV:**

By the final week of October, Elijah was starting to wonder how he wasn't going insane in his new Choir class. With a psychotic teacher at the helm, he felt like he was in a mental asylum.

While his voice was good (though he had no idea what the heck a Tenor was), Elijah quickly realized that the other students had been doing this for years, which probably explained why they were crazy. First, there was Cecilia, a small whisp of a girl that never spoke at an audible volume, but had the loudest singing voice of them all (he'd nearly fallen off the risers in shock when she started singing the first day). Then there was Art, who was also a Tenor, and the top singer in the group; he was the heroic-looking type who seemed to view the deaf teen as competition, even though the last thing Elijah wanted was to be leader of this Crazy Choir. There were also Kaleb and Kathy, twin brother and sister who seemed to constantly be at each other's throats, so they stood at opposite ends of the stands. And then there was Amanda Ross, who was the most normal of them all, but he wasn't friends with her. Of course, add Mrs. Flemming to the mix, and Elijah was lucky that there weren't daily fights breaking out in the choir room.

At least Amanda was professional enough to help him out with the class; she told him all about what happened in a choir, as well as taught him the vocal exercises that Mrs. Flemming took them through each day. She explained the different types of singers, where they stood on the risers, and also explained that their teacher cared about two things; one, 120% effort from every student, and two, winning the big televised high-school singing competition in Central Park each Spring. Her group had made it every year for the past 14 or so years, but never placed in the top three. This only spurred her to try to win this year, which was just Elijah's luck as he had to deal with her working their voices as far as they could go without straining them. Amanda, being a Soprano, was less picked on, he noticed, but maybe he was just biased because he was new to the class.

It was kind of awkward, spending time with Amanda a few minutes before and after each class, listening to her talk about music theory and vocal ranges and so on. While she seemed to accept the fact that he didn't particularly like her, Elijah started to wonder why she didn't complain or ask someone else to take over for her instead of dealing with his cold attitude towards her. Besides that first-time coming late, she was always early enough to class to talk to him, and he noticed that she occasionally would brush her hair behind her ear as they talked, and would sometimes give him an occasional glance during class, as if checking that he was still there. What did that mean? Did she actually want to spend time with him, hoping that they could be friends? Well, sorry, but he wasn't planning on being her friend anytime soon; he just sang when he was supposed to in class, and next year, he'd be taking a different elective.

The only good parts of his weeks were when Brooklyn and the other gargoyles came for their nightly visits. They still read as a group with his uncle, but they also did other stuff, like played the new computer games Lex had installed on Elijah's computer, play with Bronx whenever he came along, watched TV, or, when they wanted to, practiced ASL. Brooklyn was starting to become fluent (as fluent as one could be with four fingers), understanding everything the teen signed, and rarely messing up on his own signing as well. Hudson and the others picked up a few signs, but didn't seem to have the knack for memorizing and understanding sign language like Brooklyn did. This was good, since he and Elijah were best friends, meaning that they would often have silent conversations when they didn't want to be overheard, as well as allowing them to discuss movies and TV shows during the show without talking over the dialogue.

In a way, Ellijah _had_ found a new best friend with Brooklyn, and friends with the rest of the clan. Of course, they only could visit a few nights a week, and the teen had to go to bed by midnight if it was a school night, but other than that, he was grateful to have something kind of normal in his life again, which was having a friend. He found himself missing Galveston and his old life with each passing day, which he supposed was normal, and found himself looking forward towards the gargoyles' next visit. In fact, that was the object of his thoughts after school one day, which started one of the scariest weekends of his life.

"So are you coming to it," Amanda asked, coming up behind Elijah as he grabbed his backpack from the side of the Choir Room after class the final Monday of October.

"Coming to what," he asked, slightly annoyed; he'd had a long day, he had an English paper to write, and the last thing he needed was to play The Pronoun Game. Plus, the gargoyles didn't show up on Friday night like they were supposed to, and he hadn't heard from them at all this past weekend.

"The Choir Halloween Party," she told him, as if this was common knowledge that everyone should know. "It's later this week at Art's house."

"Oh Halloween Night?"

"Yep."

"I won't be able to come," he said quickly, shouldering his backpack and heading towards the door. Unfortunately, the girl was intent in her pursuit.

"Why not," she asked him, frowning a little. "Don't tell me that you have other plans."

"Why shouldn't I have plans," he asked. "Because I'm deaf?"

He smirked a little at her sputtering before she finally responded "No! How long are you gonna hold that over my head?"

"Until they find a cure to deafness that doesn't involve hearing aids or any kind of machine."

Amanda shook her head. "You are impossible."

"And you are persistent," Elijah retorted. "I _have_ plans for Halloween; I'm staying at home with my uncle." That was technically true, but he neglected to mention that his gargoyle friends were supposed to be coming as well, though he hadn't seen them in nearly a week.

"You know," she told him, frowning at him, "maybe you'd have more friends at this school if you got to know people better."

"I _have_ friends," he told her. "And based on what you've told me about the Choir kids, why would I voluntarily go to a party with them? Art already seems to have it out for me. Look," he continued, "if it's not required, then I'd rather not go."

Amanda sighed, brushing her hair behind her ear again. "Fine. I… We won't expect you. Have a great day." She left after that, disappearing into the crowd of students. For a second, he considered going after her and apologizing (though he didn't know why), but he heard someone say something that caught his attention.

" … gargoyles on the news last night."

His head turned towards the noise, seeing two friends chatting nearby. Not wanting to seem too interested, he moved off to the side, standing a foot away from them, bending down to pretend to tie his shoes, his ears listening intently.

"I heard about it too," the other friend said. "Apparently, there was this big fight at some cathedral, and the news helicopters caught sight of a whole group of monsters."

"How'd they know they were gargoyles?"

"Apparently they've been scattered reports of flying creatures for months now, but no one took them seriously until now. I think they used to live at some clock tower over the police station, but it blew up."

Elijah gasped, hoping that no one heard him. The gargoyles' home was destroyed? Were they okay? What was this news about a cathedral fight? He'd been wondering why the gargoyles hadn't shown up since last Tuesday, but it looked like they had troubles of their own.

"They were living over the cops the whole time? Crazy, dude."

"I know. Rumor is they're stayin' on top of that Xanatos Castle in New York City, but no one's caught sight of them since the thing at the church."

"Think they're dangerous?"

"Have to be; they're monsters, and if they outnumbered us, they'd probably take over."

Elijah quickly straightened up, heading down the hall towards the exit; he needed to talk to someone about this, and he knew just the person.

* * *

**Mason POV:**

"All your credentials seem in order," Jeffrey Robbins said, his fingers scanning the Braille page that the man had given him. "And I can't say that everyone usually brings references in Braille; usually I have to print it off on a special printer."

"I knew a guy," Mason Grant said casually and lightly, taking another sip of the iced tea that the author had made; it was pretty good. He'd been through enough training to know what to say and when to say it. "Though I will admit, I'm not all too familiar with Braille myself."

"Don't worry," the blind man assured him, setting the papers down. "I don't think you'll need to know how to read Braille while you're driving. Now, are you aware of the hours you need to be available?"

"Yes. Seven days a week, between 11 am and midnight. I'm planning on moving to an apartment in Weisman, so I won't have to travel far."

"Good," Mr. Robbins nodded. "Well, I'll let you know in a week, and-"

A door slamming open from another part of the house cut off their conversation, and seconds later, a teenager poked his head into the living room.

"Uncle Jeffrey, I-" He froze, noticing the guest for the first time, quickly leaving his thought unfinished. "I… I'm sorry I didn't know you had-"

"This is my nephew, Elijah," Jeffrey said, facing the general direction of the door. "Elijah, this is Mr. Mason Grant; I was just interviewing him for the position of our new driver."

"You have a driver," Elijah asked.

"I do go outside every once in a while," the blind author said, giving his nephew a small smile.

"Oh…" The teen stepped into the room, giving Mason a quick handshake. "Nice to meet you… sorry I barged in like that."

"It's fine," the Illuminati member assured him, taking notice of the teen's hearing aids; he'd done his research on the kid, along with his uncle, so he wasn't too surprised or caught off-guard. "I believe we were just finishing up."

"Indeed," Mr. Robbins agreed, getting up and shaking the man's hand. "I'll call you once I've made my decision; most likely by the end of this week."

"Thank you Mr. Robbins, for the opportunity." He looked over at the boy. "Nice meeting you too, Elijah." And with that, he left the room, heading out the front door.

Now came the easy part; he knew that he had had a good interview, but he knew there were more qualified people out there. with a few fake emails and phone calls, he needed those people to suddenly be unavailable, so he could get the job. There was no need to kill them; besides, Mason didn't kill.

* * *

**Elijah POV:**

"That _is_ interesting," his uncle said, looking thoughtful as Gilly lay at his feet as his nephew told him what he'd heard.

"I was wondering why they hadn't shown up in a while," Elijah replied. "They were supposed to come on Friday, but they never did; I had no idea that some attack was going on!"

"Neither did I," he replied, getting up from his seat and making his way over to the television, using his cane and memory to do so.

"I should call Elisa," the teen said, getting up and going towards the phone. "She might be able to give us some information or at least tell us if they're okay."

"No," his uncle said sternly, turning on the television as the news station started playing. "Who knows what she might be going through right now; we wait for her to call us."

"But we can't just sit here, waiting for something to happen; we need answers! Like if the gargoyles are okay? And if so, where are they now that their home is destroyed?"

"Those are the _exact_ reasons that we shouldn't call her right now," he replied, feeling the buttons on the remote, turning the volume of the television. "Think about it; they used to live above the police station where Elisa worked. Right now, the news media and the public will be focusing on them, and what if someone recalls noticing how often she went up to the attic on her own? They could be monitoring her calls, and she could be arrested for withholding information; not to mention we could be arrested for aiding her. Even if she isn't under investigation, she's probably working overtime to make sure that the public doesn't panic."

His uncle was right; right now, it was probably too dangerous to call her for answers. Elijah put the phone receiver back down. "So… what do we do now?"

"We wait," his uncle told him, sitting down in a nearby chair and focusing on the newscast, which was talking about gargoyle appearances over the city. "We wait for them to contact us."

..

By Wednesday evening, the day before Halloween, Elijah was bored out of his mind. There was no word from the gargoyles or Elisa, and with all the anti-gargoyle stuff on the news, he wondered if he'd ever see them again. They were his first real friends since he'd moved here, and the thought of them meeting some grim end was too dark to think about. All the news said was that they were monsters that needed to be destroyed, and most of the kids at school felt the same way; it was maddening, knowing the truth while everyone around him said the opposite.

There was one consolation; his uncle, having found out about his nephew's piano part and the choir concert (Mrs. Flemming had called him), had bought him a keyboard about a week earlier so he could practice at home. He did so in the afternoons when he got back from school, practicing the same song over and over again, secretly rebelling against the teacher's dislike for electronic instruments. However, he didn't sing along with the song, but he was happy to play for his uncle, who listened to the music as he worked on his book. Elijah had asked him what the novel was about, but his uncle simply told him that it was a secret. Besides the song he had to play, the teen had checked out the other songs, and even bought a CD of the musician, sometimes listening to it as he played. He'd wanted to play some of the music for Brooklyn and the others, but they hadn't been around when he'd gotten it, and now he knew why. It gave him something to do while he waited for some sort of news.

"Are you going out trick-or-treating tomorrow," his Uncle asked him as he used a special machine to write his story.

"I doubt it," the deaf teen replied, tapping out the chorus of the song on the keyboard, the volume turned low so only he could hear it. "I'm a little too old for that now."

"Well, you could always stay here like you were originally planning to; maybe even watch a movie. I'll let you stay up after midnight if you finish your homework before then." That was the original plan, but his best friends were currently in hiding, so it would be a boring evening with just his uncle, passing out candy to kids; he could call his friend June from Texas, but he figured she'd be out with her family and friends, trick-or-treating as well.

"Maybe," the boy sighed, preoccupied with other thoughts to really make a decision. All he could think about was his friends, currently somewhere, probably struggling to survive the night. "I don't have anywhere else to-" He stopped talking. Because he _did_ have somewhere else to go: the Choir Halloween Party. It was tomorrow evening, and right now, he had no idea if he'd ever see his friends again. Or at least if he'd see them before Halloween.

_I could still go,_ he thought. _I could tell Amanda that my plans changed and- _But then he realized that he would have to tell her, last minute, that he had no plans of his own and would be going to her party. After he'd told her that he had plans with his friends. He'd look like a complete idiot in her eyes, and there was no telling how many other people she'd told about him not coming; maybe the rest of the choir group knew. He already felt separated from them, so-

_So going to the party means that you might be able to get to know them,_ Elijah thought to himself. _But still…_

"Anyways," his uncle was saying, "your piano playing is coming along really well."

"Thanks," the teen replied, looking down at the keyboard. "I still can't believe how fast you got this."

"Being a semi-popular author does have its perks," the blind man replied modestly. Gilly suddenly got up at this point, running to the back door and barking. "What's wrong, girl?"

"Probably just a stray or something," the teen replied, walking over towards the door. "Gilly, calm down; they can't get in-" He froze, looking out the window, before a grin crossed his face and he threw the door open. "YES!"

"Elijah," his uncle asked, but he ignored him, running outside and meeting the gargoyle-dog that ran towards him, the latter nearly knocking the former off his feet.

"Good to see you, Bronx," the deaf teen said, laughing and smiling as he hugged the blue gargoyle, who was happy to see him too, smiling and trying to lick his face.

"What about us, lad," another voice spoke up, and Elijah looked up to find Hudson and Brooklyn standing there, grinning as well. "Don't tell me ye've forgotten us already!"

"Hudson! Brooklyn!" He let Bronx run to Gilly, the two of them barking and playing while he approached the winged duo. "You're alive! We were worried you guys were dead!"

"Thanks for your faith," Brooklyn replied jokingly. "We just got our identities revealed to the world; nothing that important."

"What's this I hear," Uncle Jeffrey spoke up, walking out of the house. "It seems that you've made it out of that scrap safely."

"Aye, friend," Hudson said, shaking the author's hand. "Our whole Clan is safe. For now."

"What happened," Elijah asked, after getting over his relief at his friends not being dead. "You guys were on the news; there was some sort of fight at a church, and now-"

"Calm down," Brooklyn told him, laughing a little. "We'll tell you all about it. Inside."

"Oh yeah," the teen replied, figuring that them being out in the open was most likely dangerous right now. "But you better not leave anything out! I've been bored out of my mind for the past week!"

"Poor you," the gargoyle said sarcastically. "We've been fighting for our lives!"

"Hey, if Bronx is okay, then you should be fine!" The garg-dog looked up at that, a slightly annoyed expression on his face.

"That was fast," the blind author commented, smiling a little as he listened to the two friends' banter. "It's as if you guys never left."

"Aye," his friend replied, smiling as well. "They're not best friends fer nothin'!"

* * *

**Brooklyn POV:**

"Wow," was all Elijah could say upon hearing what had happened in the past week in the gargoyles' lives. "That's… incredibly scary."

They were all settled in the living room, enjoying some iced tea that Jeffrey Robbins had made everyone; it was good to be able to relax after the past week of craziness. The two gargoyles had explained everything that happened; from the Hunters' attack, to their home being destroyed, to Elisa nearly dying, and finally, to the final showdown that nearly resulted in the entire destruction of the human race. The two humans listened with rapt attention, both of them silent throughout the whole story. Brooklyn was glad to finally be back in the house; after everything they'd been through in the past week, it felt good to just relax and enjoy Mr. Robbins' iced tea as he told his friends what had happened.

"And a trio of people descended from a group of gargoyle hunters… I mean," Elijah continued, "it's a good things you guys made it alright."

"Aye," Hudson agreed. "We're back at the castle now; Xanatos is our friend… I suppose."

"That must be kinda awkward," the deaf teen commented. "Seeing as how you guys were enemies for years."

"It is," Brooklyn agreed, "but at least they're trying to be more hospitable; they've even invited us to a Halloween party at the castle tomorrow night."

"Wow! That's-" Elijah's smile faltered for a second, as if remembering something that made him worry, but the grin returned seconds later. "Good for you guys… But isn't that a little dangerous? I mean, won't that be a little suspicious after getting discovered by the world a few days ago?"

"With it being Halloween, no one will notice we're not human," the gargoyle replied, wondering what the teen had remembered. "And we'll be wearing costumes as well, so it'll look like we're dressed up as two different characters."

"Bronx and I'll still be stayin' here, helpin' Robbins pass out candy," Hudson added. "I'm not a big fan of parties. Plus, they wanted ta dress up Bronx in a costume as well." The gar-dog whimpered at that, obviously not liking the idea of wearing a costume.

"I'll be here too," the teen spoke up, not frowning or looking upset, but not smiling, either. "Besides staying here and passing out candy, I've got nothing else to do; might watch a movie, but I dunno." The boy even looked bored as he said it, as if that was the worst thing that could happen to him.

Brooklyn suddenly realized what Elijah was thinking about; their original plan was for them to come spend Halloween night with them here at Robbins' house, but now things had changed. He could understand if the teen was upset; his best friends are gone for a week with no contact, and their original plan to hang out was changed. The gargoyle knew that he'd be annoyed if their roles were reversed, and decided to do something about it. "You know what? I'll stay here too; I mean, it's just a dumb Halloween party."

It took a few seconds for the words to resonate in Elijah's head, and Brooklyn counted the seconds before the teen's mouth dropped open in shock. "No," the boy finally told him, shaking his head. "You can't… After everything you just went through, you deserve-"

"To have a night off," Brooklyn replied. "Yeah, I do, but I get to choose where it'll be."

"But-" The teen looked over at the two adults, who were listening with interest, then switched to signing. _"It's not fair for you,"_ he signed. _"I can tell you wanna go to this party; you don't have to stay behind on my account. Seriously, just because I'm deaf doesn't mean you have to change your plans to accommodate me."_

_"I wouldn't be a good friend if left you here with nothing to do but listen to these two,"_ Brooklyn signed back; they both liked the two older adults, but they were still older, and their interests differed from theirs. _"And I don't mind staying behind; we could watch a movie, or even go into the town. I've never seen Weisman before."_

_ "It's not an interesting town-"_

_ "Hey, I've lived in a clock tower for over a year, and a castle before that; I don't mind if it doesn't have much to do. And, if you think about it, it'll give you a chance to show me what a normal town looks like."_ In Brooklyn's opinion, Elijah seemed to be hiding something; there was some reason he didn't want him to come, but he wasn't sure what it could possibly be. The teen had been happy when they'd shown up tonight, so why would he not want to hang out tomorrow night?

_ "I get it, but…"_ The teen hesitated again, trying to think of a good excuse, and finding none. He frowned at his friend. _"Fine. But if you have a horrible time, it's not my fault."_

Brooklyn grinned. _"After everything I've just been through, I'm ready for something boring!"_ The two snickered at that, turning back to the other room occupants.

"Yep," Hudson said, not sounding too annoyed at being cut out of the conversation, "they've already gone back ta talkin' with their hands."

"Sorry," Elijah said seriously, a grin on his face. "We were just discussing the horrible time Brooklyn's gonna have here tomorrow night."

"It'll be nothing compared to the walk in the park we just had saving humanity," the gargoyle added, just as sarcastic as his friend as he looked around the room. "What's that," he asked, pointing over to the keyboard that sat in the corner of the room.

"Oh yeah! You guys weren't here last week; I got a keyboard."

"For your piano solo?"

"What solo," Hudson asked.

"Elijah's playing the piano for one of the songs for his choir concert," Brooklyn explained.

"Are ye, lad," the old gargoyle asked, the teen giving him an embarrassed nod. "Good fer ye! Can ye play us something?"

"Sure." Elijah went over and sat down at the keyboard, turning on the device; Brooklyn knew that if Lex were here, he'd have a field day exploring everything the electronic piano could do. The teenager, still looking slightly embarrassed, made a big show of playing a scale before starting to play a slow song, the melody surrounding everything in the room. To their surprise, Elijah sounded good on the piano; of course, they didn't know what to expect of his playing, but they weren't expecting that level of talent. He seemed to have practiced this song a lot when they weren't there, and they could tell that it was going to be a hit at the concert. Everyone clapped when he finished the song a few minutes later, and the teen tried not to look embarrassed.

"Dude, you never told me that you were that good at the piano," Brooklyn told him honestly.

"I'm _not_ that good," Elijah assured him, still looking embarrassed. "I just know that song pretty well now because of how long I've been practicing it."

"That was the song," Hudson asked, slightly confused. "I thought ye had ta sing with it."

"Not me," the deaf teen assured him. "I'll just be playing it for the concert."

"He does have a good voice, though," his uncle spoke up. "I've heard him when he practices in his room."

"I'm_ not that good,_" the teen said, giving his uncle a death glare that the man couldn't see, "and I'm not gonna sing anything! I'm just gonna play the piano."

"Fine… we'll just show up to your concert instead," Brooklyn said.

Elijah grinned at the obvious joke. "It's indoors, and right now, the majority of the public hate you, so good luck trying!"

"And we still need to keep a low profile," Hudson added. "Now, what book were we readin' last week? We might as well try ta get back on schedule."

"I think we'd just started _Night,_" the deaf teen spoke up. "Remember? I have to read it for English."

"Ah, yes," his uncle replied. "I recall it now; a good read, and one of the first written accounts of the horrors of the concentration camps during World War Two."

"I'll get the book," Elijah offered, leaving the room to presumably get the book from his backpack.

"Now what were ye both talkin' about," Hudson asked Brooklyn.

"It was nothing; Elijah just felt bad that I was staying here on his account."

"Why?"

"I dunno," the younger gargoyle replied. "He seemed like he was hiding something, if I'm being honest."

"Hiding something," the blind author repeated, looking thoughtful. "Well, he didn't tell me about his piano solo originally; I only found out from his teacher."

"Ye think he's hidin' somethin' else," Hudson asked.

"Maybe," Brooklyn replied. "He didn't want me to come at first, but he couldn't think of an excuse for me not to come." He looked at the two adults. "Should I ask him what-"

"Not yet," Mr. Robbins told him. "I'd wait a while, seeing as how you two just got back, and he already seems hesitant to talk. If I were you, I'd look for any signs of what he might be hiding; see if he avoids a certain topic, or, if you two do go into town tomorrow night, see where he takes you, and where he won't take you."

"That seems kind of dishonest," Brooklyn said. "But… you're probably right; if I straight-up ask him, he'd clam up."

"Found it," they heard Elijah call from the hall, and seconds later, he was through the door, book in hand. "Can I start reading tonight?"

"Aye, lad," Hudson replied. "Take all the time ye need." Oblivious to the conversation they had just had, the teen opened the book to the bookmark, resumed his seat, and started to read. However, Brooklyn still couldn't help but wonder what the teen could be hiding; he seemed… desperate, in a way, for him not to be here tomorrow night. As if there was something here in Weisman that he didn't want him to know about. But why? What could possibly be happening tomorrow night that the deaf teen wouldn't tell him about. However, he decided to follow Mr. Robbins' advice, and just wait and see.

* * *

_Meanwhile, in New York City..._

"Is everything ready for tomorrow night?"

"Of course; the gauntlet contains seven blades; one for each DNA sample. When you use one, it automatically rotates to another, so there's no cross-contamination."

"Excellent," Thailog replied, accepting the briefcase of money the scientist slid across the desk to him. "Of course, I'll get the rest after tomorrow night, and you your DNA samples."

"Of course," Dr. Sevarius nodded. "You better hope that they're all in the same place, and that they don't kill you."

"I'll have no trouble obtaining what I need," the clone replied. "That's why I'm making a quick stop before going to the Castle…"

* * *

**That's it for this chapter! I think this arc will have at least three chapters, but no more than four. And, of course, we have more villains in the game, as well as the promise of action to come!**

**Feel free to follow or favorite this story to be updated on new chapters, and feel free to leave a review on this chapter or others if you want. ****And, as usual, have a safe and happy week/weekend!**

**-aggiefrogger**

**Note: I do NOT own _Night_ in ANY way, shape or form.**


	11. Chapter 11

**Hey Readers! **

**Well, here's Part Two of the Halloween story arc; this chapter starts on Halloween Night, 1996. It's gonna focus on three different POV's, so I've put when and where it changes from one person to another. I hope you like the chapter!**

* * *

**Halloween: Part Two**

**Brooklyn POV:**

"You know you didn't need to wear a costume," Elijah said. "People'll already think you're wearing one."

"It's the spirit of the holiday," Brooklyn replied, taking in his Superman-esque costume, the gargoyle using his wings to serve as the cape. "Besides, Fox made a costume for each of us, and I figured I might as well wear it."

"But did she _have_ to get me one? I don't even know her, and I'm a little too old for costumes," the deaf teen said from the other side of his bedroom door, having locked himself in his room.

"Is someone scared of going out in public in a costume," the gargoyle asked mockingly, but not harshly.

"I'm not scared! I just… I don't know Mr. or Mrs. Xanatos, and I'm not going to their party and… How'd they even get my clothing size?!"

"They stopped by this morning and I gave them some of your clothes; they said that Brooklyn told them last night that you didn't have a costume, and they insisted on getting you one," his Uncle Jeffrey spoke up, walking over to the door after climbing the stairs. "Just wanted to see what was taking you two so long, but it appears I have an answer."

"Et tu, Brute?"

"Was that Shakespeare," his uncle asked, raising his eyebrows in surprise.

"C'mon," Brooklyn said, knocking on the door again. "Quit stalling! The night's fading fast! Besides, that town festival ends at ten, and it's nearly eight now!"

"Fine," the deaf teen snapped. "But don't say I didn't warn you." The door unlocked and slowly opened, and the teen stepped into the hallway.

Wherever Fox had gotten his costume, it was of surprisingly good quality, given the secret last-minute request from Brooklyn the night before; he supposed being super rich had its perks. The teen was dressed in a nice three-piece tan suit, looking like he'd just stepped out of the 1920's. This fact was further accented with the bowler hat on his head, the fake white imperial mustache, and the cane in his hand. All in all, he looked like he was going to a high-society event, not to a Halloween outing.

"Who are you," Brooklyn asked, having not seen the costume, since Fox gave it to him in a cleaners bag, and almost not recognizing his friend. "Fox went all out for you!" He looked at his own costume, which almost seem childish compared to his friend's.

"The note it came with said I'm supposed to be Hercule Poirot," Elijah replied, looking at his costume with slight discomfort. "Guess Uncle Jeffrey here told her I was a fan. I'm not used to wearing anything this nice… I _still_ can't believe they did this for me."

"Well, I can't see it," his uncle spoke up, "but you better write them a thank you note."

"But I didn't ask them to-" His excuse faltered under the blind man's glare, and the teen nodded. "Fine. Good thing it's kind of cold tonight or else I'd be sweating in this getup!"

"I think it _suits_ you," the gargoyle said, the pun obvious and bad, trying to cheer the teen up.

"I'll frame you for murder, Super Gargoyle," Elijah replied in a fake French accent. "Now don't make me take you down with my trusty cane!"

"Okay, you two," Uncle Jeffrey said before the two could start to bicker back and forth. "I say that if you're ready to go, then let's go downstairs before Hudson thinks we all died." The author led them downstairs and into the library, where the older gargoyle sat by the back door, waiting for trick-or-treaters, the two dogs sleeping at their feet.

"Nice costume, lad. Now Brooklyn, make sure that ye keep him safe, and that no one finds out who ye are, lad," Hudson added.

"I'm not that pathetic that I need a protector," the deaf teen said annoyedly.

"I wouldn't worry about that," Brooklyn assured him. "I doubt anyone would want to attack a senior citizen!" He avoided the teen's cane as it swung at his face. "See you later!"

"Stay safe you two," Mr. Robbins called out after them.

"We will! Bye," Elijah said, and they both stepped out into the night, walking past a small group of kids approaching the back door of the blind author's house, a few of them commenting Brooklyn's 'costume.'

"How're you not cold," the teen asked as they walked down the road heading towards the town, passing more groups of kids that were running around and laughing, wearing costumes and toting bags of candy. "It's probably 50 degrees out here!"

"Gargoyles just don't freeze that easily," Brooklyn replied. "Technically, it's colder at night, so I guess we're built to survive lower temperatures. But it's not that cold tonight."

"Speak for yourself; Texas is one of the hottest states in the US, and right now, it's probably 80 degrees there."

"That must be pretty annoying."

"We manage; I'm used to it by this point, and it's kinda funny how people up here see a 75 degree day as 'unbearable' when sometimes it reaches over 100 degrees where I live."

"Wow! How're you not dead?"

"I'm a survivor," the teen replied seriously, though the grin on his face showed he was only joking. "C'mon; it's about a ten or so minute walk into town."

..

Weisman was ready for Halloween; the main street lampposts were decorated with fake pumpkins, and the store windows had images of ghosts and spooks on them, with a few having jack-o'-lanterns sitting outside as well. Most were open, offering candy to costumed kids, as well as selling hot apple cider to chase away the chill of the outside. A generous number of people milled around with their kids, who were running around, high on the sugary treats as Michael Jackson's "Thriller" played from a nearby speaker system. Of course, the gargoyle knew what Halloween was about, and was glad that this year, it would be free of drama and attacks, which would be welcome after nearly dying a week ago.

"So this is Weisman," Brooklyn said, looking around at the buildings. "It's… smaller than New York City."

"Yeah; you probably wouldn't find a good place to sleep during the day here," Elijah replied. "Most people have lived her their whole lives; they'd notice a statue suddenly appearing in town."

"Fortunately they don't notice that this isn't a costume," his friend replied as they walked around the edge of the crowd, earning a few more compliments as they watched everyone celebrate. "And I will admit, there's something here that seems more… familiar."

"Familiar?"

"Yeah. Back in Scotland, our clan and the humans we protected were all in one castle and the surrounding area. Naturally, everyone was pretty close, and sometimes had festivals and celebrations like this. Of course, no one wore costumes like this back then."

"Do you still sometimes find it hard to believe that you're no longer in the time you were born in," Elijah asked.

The gargoyle hesitated a little, but eventually nodded. "Sometimes. I mean, it's easy, since we've been here for years now, but every now and then… I remember."

The teen could tell he'd hit a sore subject, and looked around for some sort of distraction. He found one, but gave a small groan of annoyance when he realized what it was. "Oh no."

"What," Brooklyn asked.

"It's Mrs. Flemming." Brooklyn looked over at a woman who stood about six yards away, currently dressed as a witch, which the gargoyle didn't know was supposed to be ironic or prophetic.

"The crazy Choir teacher lady," the gargoyle asked. "The one who's basically forcing you to do that piano solo?"

"That's the one." He froze as he saw the woman notice him, and start towards him. "And she's coming this way."

"Don't worry; she'll think I'm in costume."

"But who do I say you are?"

"Hello, Elijah," Mrs. Flemming said, stopping a few feet away from the duo of friends. "Glad to see you've stumbled upon the Weisman Autumn Festival."

"Uh… y-yeah," Elijah replied, trying not to sound awkward or reveal that he didn't want to talk to her. "It's… it's nice."

"And who might you be," she asked, turning towards Brooklyn. "Interesting costume choice."

"Thanks, ma'am. I'm Brooklyn." The gargoyle awkwardly stuck out his hand for her to shake, but after a few seconds of her not returning the greeting, he let it fall. "I… I thought it'd be cool to wear two costumes this year."

"I can see," she said, looking him up and down. "How ever did you manage that?"

"My… my family's rich, and we know a costumer person..." He sounded unconvincing, and based on the look the woman gave him, he knew he better start making sense. Fast.

"Do you live around here," she asked.

"No; I live in New York City."

"Interesting. So how are you two friends, since Mr. Robbins here is from Texas," the Choir teacher asked, her face showing that she wouldn't take a sub par answer.

"Uh…" The gargoyle looked at Elijah, just as lost as he was; they really should have planned on a situation like this one, but now there was no turning back.

"He's… my… audiologist's son," the teen said, trying not to sound like he was lying.

"Your… audiologist's son," the teacher asked, raising an eyebrow at him.

"Yeah… for my ears; my old one's back in Texas, and when I went to meet the one here in New York, I met Brooklyn here."

"Yeah," the gargoyle spoke up, agreeing with the teen's story. "My dad's his audiologist, and asked if I could probably be his friend."

"Are you friends," Mrs. Flemming asked.

"Of course we are; we can sign to one another and everything."

"But you yourself aren't deaf?"

"Nope, but with a parent that deals with deaf people a lot, I kind of picked it up."

The woman looked at the two of them suspiciously for a few more moments, but then eventually nodded. "Good for you; I don't know how old you are, but I can tell you're older, and most people your age don't really take the time to help out someone younger than yourselves."

"Uh… thank you," Brooklyn replied awkwardly, wondering if it was a compliment.

"Have you been practicing your piano part," she asked Elijah. "The concert is Monday night."

"I've been practicing," the teen replied, knowing that she knew that he had been practicing. "My uncle bought me a keyboard, and-"

"Oh!" The woman threw her hands up at that. "Well, I guess it's better than nothing, I suppose. Will you be coming to his concert," she asked Brooklyn.

"Uh… no, I can't, because I'm gonna be… out of town that day."

"Really? Where will you be?"

"Florida," Elijah answered, while the gargoyle wondered why the heck they were continuing to lie instead of just telling the woman to mind her own business.

"So you know he won't be coming," she asked him.

"Yes, but that's okay; at least we get to hang out now. Do you know what my costume is," the deaf teen asked his teacher.

"Hercule Piorot," she replied. "Now, if you two'll excuse me, I need to be going now." Then, as suddenly as she had appeared, she was leaving, disappearing back into the crowd.

"Uh… you teacher is…" Brooklyn started to say.

"Crazy?"

"Yep."

"... How did she know who you were supposed to-"

"I don't know." The two of them were silent for a while, still trying to comprehend what had just happened.

"Well," Brooklyn said, "you were right about her; and I thought you were just exaggerating. Is she always that nosy?"

"You have _no_ idea," Elijah assured him. "But c'mon; let's go get some cider or something." And the two of them left, walking away from Mrs. Flemming, the Wicked Witch of Weisman.

* * *

**Amanda POV:**

The Choir Party at Art's house was the first Halloween party I've ever been invited to; usually, I would go to the festival in town with everyone else, but I was excited to go this year; it meant I was finally old enough to leave behind the childish games and stuff at the festival, and enjoy some real fun. But by the second hour after the party started, I was bored, and not enjoying myself.

I mean, there was music, dancing, snacks, and all the stuff one sees on TV, but something was missing… I couldn't explain it, but even with my friends by my side, I wasn't enjoying my time at the party. Maybe it was because it was at Art's house, and he was known to be kind of a jerk, but I simply took a sip of my glass of punch as the stereo played loudly from the other room. It's funny, at other parties I'd been to, I'd had a blast, but now… maybe I just had a lot on my mind at the moment, especially with my older brother visiting home from college. It wasn't that I hated him; he was a hard person to hate. It was more of how my parents doted on him and acted like he was their only child whenever he visited; I could already tell Christmas would be a nightmare.

"Oh my gosh I LOVE this song," my friend Sally screamed in my ear; she was also a Soprano, so her voice was high and especially loud.

I listened to the music coming from the stereo, which seemed to be by the Backstreet Boys. "Yeah," I agreed, nodding in agreement. "This sure is a good song."

"Come ON, Amanda! You've been standing there forever!" She grabbed my arm, pulling me towards the living room where some of the other kids were dancing. "It's Halloween; don't tell me you'd rather be helping out at the wreath stand!"

"No… of course not," I lied, giving her a small smile; in reality, helping out at the fall wreath stand every past Halloween was one of my favorite pastimes. But Jason was on his college fall break, so my parents insisted that he be at the stand all night with them, which helped me make my decision to come to Art's party. Besides, between going to a party at Art's house and having to hear my mother bragging about how great Jason's college career is going, I'd chose the fun one. "I just… I'm not a good dancer."

"Now _that's_ a lie," my friend told me, pulling me into the center of the room. She started to dance wildly, singing along with the music, and after a while, I joined in, giving her a real smile. We'd been friends since middle school, and Sally always had a knack of making people around her smile. Even the other choir kids started to laugh as well, and we danced to the song, those of us knowing the lyrics singing along. For a while, I started to forget about Jason, as well as another person who wasn't at the party tonight.

"Hey, everyone," Art called, turning off the stereo as the song ended, "come in here! Let's play a game!"

"What game," Cecilia asked in her usual whisper, though she sang like Aretha Franklin when necessary.

"Oh, can we play a board game," Kathy asked happily.

"That's stupid," her twin brother Kaleb told her. "How're we supposed to all play one board game; there's sixteen of us."

"We can all play different board games," she snapped at her brother.

"But I don't _want_ to play a board game!"

"We're gonna play charades," Art interrupted, cutting off the twins' argument. "Any volunteers?"

"I'll go," Sally said excitedly, always the voice of enthusiasm, and walked to the front of the room, stating that it was a thing. It took a few minutes, but we eventually deciphered it was a vending machine. After my friend went, others volunteered and I couldn't help but laugh as I tried to guess who or what they were supposed to be; I temporarily forgot about that sad feeling from earlier, but that came crashing back when Art took his turn.

"It's a person," he told us, standing at the front of the room. Then, he stood up straight, avoiding all eye contact with anyone, looking almost dumbfounded.

"Alf," someone suggested, earning a few laughs, but he didn't respond. I tried to figure out who he was supposed to be as other people gave their suggestions, but I couldn't figure it out. Art continued to act as if he didn't hear our answers, not even shaking his head no, which wasn't how the game went; if someone guessed wrong, the person currently pretending had to give some sort of indication that the guesser was wrong. However, the pieces didn't fall together until the teen started to fiddle with his ears, almost in an exaggerated way, as well as waving his hands in front of him.

He was making fun of Elijah.

I knew that Elijah couldn't, or at least didn't want to come to the party, partly being because Art didn't like him, but this… Elijah didn't mess with his ears all the time! Sometimes, yeah, he'd adjust the volume of his hearing aids for when we started singing, but he wouldn't do it in the mocking way that Art was doing it now. And he could still hear us; he wore hearing aids so he could hear! What's worse was that other people were laughing, seeming to catch onto who it was; I knew that not everyone else knew much about Elijah, given how he refused to socialize with any of the other students, but I thought they'd at least have the decency to say something about how wrong this was.

"I know who it is," Sally yelled naively. "It's Ellijah!"

However, Art didn't seem to hear her. However, when other people started to repeat the answer, he fiddled with his ears, said, "Sorry, I couldn't hear you guys," and smirked, something in me seemed to snap. Usually, when Art acted like a jerk, I didn't say anything, but now, I did.

"What the hell is wrong with you," I snapped, the words just slipping out without any thought.

Everyone went silent and looked at me, and I felt my cheeks go warm. I couldn't tell what they were thinking, but I doubted it was anything good. After all, everyone else appeared to be having a good time, and now I was yelling at the host of the party.

"What," Art said, still smirking. "It's just a joke! He's not even here, so no harm done!"

"Still, it's rude to make fun of him," I replied.

"Why? Because he can't hear? Since when do you care about some disabled freak?"

"He's not a freak," I snapped, getting to my feet and glaring at him. "And he _can_ hear, for your information; hearing aids _help_ people hear! You're just jealous because he's a better singer than you!"

There were a few gasps at that, and the blood seemed to drain from Art's face. I could feel Sally trying to pull me back to my seat, but I waved her hand away; this fight was between me and this smug tenor. However, he quickly sneered at me. "I get that Flemming assigned you to help him, but you don't have to fall in love with him."

My face went red, and some people laughed. "I _don't like him!_ We're just friends, and if you know what's good for you, you'll cut this stuff out!"

"What's good for me," he repeated, laughing a little. "What're you gonna do? Tell my mommy? Tell Elijah? What'll he do?"

"Nothing, since I'm about to do it for him," I replied, and, suddenly having a courage and strength I'd never had before, I punched Art Watchman in his perfect, smartass face. It probably wasn't the smartest move, but it was too late to turn back time. He stumbled back, nearly hitting the wall, holding his mouth, which was bleeding. A lot. Behind me, everyone gasped, and I looked stunned myself, looking at my hand.

_I… I just did that,_ I thought, the reality of the situation hitting me at once. _I attacked him… because of-_

Suddenly, I couldn't stay there; I felt I would be sick if I stayed there. Pushing past the twins, I walked into the front hall, grabbing my coat, and walking out the front door into the night. I didn't know where to go, or what I'd do, but I was determined to get as far away from this house as I could.

The road I was on led towards Weisman; Art's family lived out in the country, so I had quite a walk ahead of me. But I didn't care; all I could think about was what had just happened, and what it would mean for me in the future. Not only had I punched the star singer of the group in the mouth, probably damaging it weeks before our first concert, but now, everyone probably thought that I liked Elijah Robbins.

_But I don't,_ I told myself, turning left at the main road towards the town, the one that ran parallel to the ocean. _I… I don't like him._ But even as I thought it, I wondered if I was lying to myself. There were a ton of reasons I shouldn't like Elijah; he was sarcastic, rude, distant, and he held a grudge against me. Any other girl would keep their distance, and I knew I should too. But… for some reason…

"Get a hold of yourself," I said, trying to steady my breathing as I leaned against a nearby wall, resting , since I'd been walking for nearly ten minutes now. Looking in front of me, I saw the ocean several yards away, calm and tranquil in the moonlight; the exact opposite of me. It didn't have to worry about whether people liked it or not, nor if it may or may not have a crush on someone, nor that it's older brother was back, reminding it of how horrible it's own grades were. Turning back up the road, I realized I happened to be stopped in front of the house of one Jeffrey Robbins, and that the gate leading to the back door was open, allowing kids to come in and out to accept candy, though none were visible now. It was a majestic two-story brick house, and a light was visible from most of the rooms.

Suddenly, for no reason, I felt mad at Elijah; if he had just manned up and come to the party, Art wouldn't have dared to pull that stunt of his, and we would all be having a fun time. Not to mention I wouldn't now be subject to my peer's uncaring judgement. I was mad at him for being rude to the other choir kids, my friends (though I doubted how many would still like me after tonight), and for still being upset with me for the Blockbuster Incident, which was purely an accident, but he _WOULDN'T LET IT GO!_ He probably wasn't even out with a friend; he was probably alone, inside that house, waiting for tomorrow, using a fake excuse to not see anyone.

_Well,_ I thought determinedly, glaring at the house, _let's see how rude you after I have an embarrassing moment to hold over __**your**__ head!_ And with that, I walked up the back driveway to the house, head held high, and knocked on the back door. It took a few seconds for someone to answer, but when someone did, I suddenly felt as meek as a mouse, unable to even say a word.

"Can I help ye, lass," the man said, wearing a gargoyle costume (I figured he must've seen them on the news, and thought it'd be funny) and carrying a small bowl of candy. He sounded and looked old, and even wore some armor, as if he were a gargoyle soldier or something. It couldn't be Mr. Robbins, since this guy could clearly see me, so I figured it must be a friend of his; I knew old people liked to sometimes hang out together, reminiscing on the old days. "Ye seem a little old ta be trick-or-treatin'."

"What," I replied, momentarily confused, as well as embarrassed; what if Elijah saw me? Wait, why should I care if he saw me? I was here to humiliate him! "Uh… yes," I replied, gathering some of my old courage back. "I'm Amanda; I'm a friend of Elijah's."

"Are ye, lass," the man said, smiling a little. "Well, I'm afraid he's not here; he and Brooklyn are out at the Festival. Ye'll probably find them there."

"Thanks, but I… " I couldn't say anything as the man's words echoed in my brain. Elijah wasn't here? Meaning… he wasn't lying about having plans… meaning that _my_ perfect plan had fallen through. I might as well add that to the list of things going wrong with my life tonight. And if they were at the Festival… what would I even say? I had no idea who this Brooklyn person was, and if I went, I'd probably be attacked on all sides from my mom's friends, talking about Jason. _Perfect_ Jason. Perfect 4.0, handsome, model sibling Jason, the pride of the Ross family. Jason, who could seemingly do no wrong. And here I was, having just punched one of my classmates, my plan on embarrassing another one dead at my feet. Everything in my mind collided in one giant crash, and I suddenly started crying, breaking down on the back step right then and there.

"It's not _fair,_" I said through tears, seemingly unable to get a hold of myself. "Art was… Jason is… And Elijah just…" I started crying some more, just sobbing my heart out on the back step of the Robbins house, not caring about the world around me.

"Uh… I… Robbins," the old man called out, going back into the house. "I think we have a situation." Great; now Mr. Robbins, who saw my mom in the grocery store and knew her well enough that he'd sometimes say hi to me if I went shopping with my mom, would probably call her and tell her that her mess of a daughter was crying on his doorstep.

Suddenly, a little while later, I felt a kind hand on my shoulder. "Are you okay," a kind voice asked, and through my tears, I saw a man who looked vaguely like Ellijah, but older, taller, and wore sunglasses instead of hearing aids. By his feet, a dog stared at me curiously, some sort of harness on it that allowed it to lead the author around.

"I… I'm sorry Mr. Robbins," I said quickly, wiping my eyes on my coat sleeve. "I just… I'm fine, and I'll... I'll just be going-"

"You are clearly not fine," the blind author told me. "And don't think I don't know it's you, Amanda Ross." I froze at that, wondering if he was going to call my mom. "Don't worry; I won't call your mother, but I insist that you sit down and tell me what's troubling you, and what my nephew has to do with it."

"W-What?"

"Hudson told me you mentioned my nephew, along with a few other boys, one being your brother," the author replied. I winced a little at Jason's mention, and he heard it, nodding understandingly. "I heard he was back in town; you clearly must have a lot on your mind. Come in; would you like some water?"

Normally, I wouldn't do stuff like this; even though he knew my parents, he was still a stranger, and walking into his home was probably a dumb and dangerous thing to do. But, for some reason, I felt that he was being sincere, and that if he was a fit enough person to be Elijah's legal guardian, then I should be fine too. Besides, I always carried pepper spray in my coat pocket, and figured it would still work on a blind man.

I nodded. "Y-Yes, please."

* * *

**Thailog POV:**

Thailog walked across the main atrium of the Labyrinth, which was in chaos around him. Behind him, the Manhattan Clan clones followed him obediently, still seeing him as their master. By now, the majority of the humans had run, but one wasn't lucky, due to a limp, and the gargoyle quickly caught up with him, grabbing him by the neck and lifting him off the ground.

"Please don't hurt me," the man stammered. "I… I'm unarmed, and-"

"Shut up," Thailog interrupted him. "I've been told that you live around here, and you see a lot of things. Hear them, too. Correct?" The man nodded. "I already know that Goliath was here earlier this evening, so tell me, is there anything else I should know about him or his clan? And please, speak truthfully; these clones will do anything I tell them to, including kill."

The homeless man gave the clones a scared glance, then turned back to their leader. "Please… I don't know-"

"Wrong answer." Thailog threw the man to the ground, stomping down on his foot and breaking it. The man gave a howl of pain, holding his injured foot, unable to move. "Now, let me ask you again; is there anything else you would like to tell-"

"Weisman," the man cried. "G-Goliath said something about two of his clan going up to Weisman tonight to visit some friends!" He was crying now, still holding his mangled foot, whimpering for mercy.

"This _is_ interesting," Thailog said to himself, thinking. Of course, he needed all the gargoyles together to get their DNA samples at once, but two of them being upstate made this difficult; the easiest option was to wait for them to return back to NYC, and attack them then. However, he was intrigued as to who these 'friends' of the gargoyles might be, but knew that attacking them in a small town would probably draw unwanted attention to himself, even on Halloween. But if he got someone else who didn't mind the attention, someone expendable…

As he approached the hallway of cells, he prepared himself for the mutate he was about to see, remembering how obnoxious the individual was. Sure enough, the winged mutant was still in his cell, having been captured by the other mutates and the Manhattan Clan earlier that month. Of course, Thailog had dealt with this unsavory mutate before, but he knew that right now, he had no choice; Delilah was at the Castle with Goliath, and he wanted to be there to catch them.

"I know you," Fang said, getting up from his bed and walking over to the clear glass window that kept him locked in the tiny room. "Heard and saw what ya did to the rest of them; thats what they get for helping others! Be a pal and help a guy outta here?"

"Silence, you idiot," Thailog told him, glaring at the mutate. "I'm not here as your friend. Against my better judgement, I need your help."

The mutate frowned at that. "I'm hurt! Maybe I just won't help ya this time, buddy!" He sat down on his bed, looking like a spoiled child. "Go bother someone else; I'm busy, and can't help ya with whatevah ya needed my help with!"

"Even if it means getting revenge on the gargoyles?"

Fang looked up at the clone, surprised at first, but his frown quickly changed into a grin. "I'm listening."

* * *

**After thinking it through, this is probably going to be a four part story arc. Also, more on Amanda's life in the next chapter.**

**Feel free to follow or favorite this story to be updated on new chapters, and feel free to leave a review on this chapter or others if you want. ****And, as usual, have a safe and happy week/weekend!**

**-aggiefrogger**

**Note: I do NOT own Hercule Poirot, Agatha Christie, the Backstreet Boys or Alf in ANY way, shape or form!**


	12. Chapter 12

**Hey Readers and Gargoyle Fans,**

**Here's part three of the Halloween storyline; hope it was worth the wait!**

**IMPORTANT NOTE! I re-wrote ch. 7, adding more information about the mysterious stone that Jeffrey is looking after. It's basically called the Fourth Eye of Mab, and is rumored to be one of Mab's eyes (Mab is the former queen of Avalon, and Oberon's mother).**

* * *

**Halloween: Part Three**

**Hudson POV:**

Hudson had no idea who this Amanda Ross lass was, but it was apparent by her behavior that she was going through a troubling time.

The girl looked to be about Elijah's age, and had long, almost frizzy hair. Her eyes, still red from crying, darted around the room, her skin looking almost ghost-like in the light as she sipped from the glass of water Robbins had offered her. She mainly looked over at Bronx, who was sleeping near the fire, probably wondering how he was wearing a costume.

"I'm sorry if I'm intruding on you two," she said meekly, holding the glass in both hands, looking a little embarrassed. "I… I shouldn't have come-"

"Nonsense," Jeffrey said, sitting down in his usual seat by the fire. "We were starting to think that no other kids would be coming for candy, and were getting ready to play a card game."

"Though I must admit that ya gave me quite a scare," Hudson said honestly.

Amanda winced at the memory. "Yeah… I must look like an idiot, crying like that over nothing."

"It seemed important to you," the blind author said. "And there's no shame in crying. Although, based on what I heard and what Hudson told me, I assume you were here to see Elijah, who is very important to me."

She looked up at him in surprise, as if she didn't expect him to get to the point so quickly, then slowly nodded. "Yes. I… I was angry with him, and-"

"Angry? What did the lad do," the gargoyle asked. "If he did anythin' ta hurt ya-"

"Nothing like that," she said quickly. "I just… Oh, it's a long story."

"We've got time," Robbins told her. "And it might be good to talk things out with someone that isn't your mother." Hudson had no idea who the teen's mother was, but based on Amanda's reaction to the comment, their relationship must be rocky.

"I… I guess so," she said, taking another sip of her water. "It's just… I guess it kinda started this summer. Elijah came into the Blockbuster I was working at, and I… I kind of noticed his hearing aids, and was talking about it to a coworker, and-"

"He overheard you," the author asked.

She nodded. "He… he got mad, basically slammed us for talking about him behind his back, and went to check out his movie. My boss found out something happened and was going to probably fire me, but Elijah… he lied and covered for me. Right after I'd insulted him." She paused in her story, not looking anyone in the eye. "I didn't see him after that until school, and we agreed to pretend that it didn't happen, but I could tell he never forgot, and probably still held it against me.

"Then, out of nowhere, he gets assigned to my choir class, and I got assigned to help him out. He was annoyed, as was I, but we figured that we might as well just get it over with. I… I tried to be nice to him, to show that I was sorry, but he still…" She sighed. "I can't believe I'm talking about this-"

"He wouldn't stop hating you," Robbins asked, and after a stunned moment or two, Amanda nodded. "It would make sense; he's inherited his father and I's stubbornness. I do recall him being unhappy at being in choir, but he never mentioned you helping him."

"Probably makes sense; he ignores me in the hall whenever we pass each other between classes, and only speaks to me if he has a question about choir." She took another sip of water, looking melancholic.

Hudson nodded, finally realizing what the girl wasn't saying out loud, but hinting at. "Ye like him, don't ye?"

Amanda nearly choked on her water, looking up at him with shock. "What?! How did you-"

"I've been around a while," he replied, neglecting to mention that he was technically from another century. "Ye seem ta care about his wellbein', even if he doesn't care about ye that much. Besides, if ye remember a small misunderstandin' from nearly three months ago, then ye must have _some_ feelin's towards him."

She stared at him, and for a second, he wondered if she'd realized he wasn't human. However, after a few seconds, she sighed, looking at the fireplace, working up the courage to agree with him. "I… I _can't_ like him, though. He doesn't even like _me_, so how can I like him?" She shook her head. "I must sound crazy right now."

"Not at all, but I take it you didn't tell him that you liked him," Jeffrey asked.

"I hinted," Amanda said, almost defensively, "but he doesn't seem to notice. Or maybe he did, and just doesn't care…. I _know_ I shouldn't be hung up on him if he doesn't like me, but… I don't know; I never was the smartest person in my family."

"Which is probably why you're here instead of helping your family at your festival stand," the author told her. "I heard that your brother Jason is back in town."

The girl seemed to tense at the name, and the gargoyle figured that she didn't like him. "I… I shouldn't say anything about him," she muttered.

"I'm not going to tell your mother," the blind author told her kindly. "And while I may not know much about how older and younger siblings work, I'll give you my thoughts, if you'd like."

Amanda looked at Robbins, as if wondering if he really meant to help her. Hudson decided to speak up, saying, "And I've had siblings, so I might be able ta shed some light on the subject."

The girl looked at him as well, probably still debating if she should say something, and after nearly half a minute, she did. "I just can't stand how my parents treat Jason like he's the greatest person who ever lived." She jumped a little, as if expecting her mother to appear and smite her, but when no one did, she seemed to grow more confident. "I mean, he's only been at college for a few months, _and_ they _still_ think he's the most perfect person in existence! He has perfect looks, perfect grades, and he's on the archery team, which was my dad's old college team! My parents expect me to be just as perfect as him, but I can't, since I'm not him, and they almost resent me for it. I try, though; I had a job this summer, but got fired, and all they could say instead of comforting me is that Jason NEVER got fired from a job, and that I should call him for advice!" The girl took a few breaths, trying to calm herself down, blushing with embarrassment for carrying on like that. She looked over at Hudson. "Did you ever have that trouble with your siblings or parents?"

"Well," the old gargoyle started to say, wondering what he should say. His childhood wasn't exactly like hers, and the teaching and child-raising style of a gargoyle was certainly different from a human's. However, he decided to give it his best shot. "Not exactly, though we often did try ta one up one another in whatever we did. We saw it as an opportunity ta make the clan stronger, but sometimes it got out of hand."

"_Clan,_" Amanda asked.

"It's a Scottish thing," Jeffrey told her.

"Aye," Hudson agreed. "And… our parents… never really acted like yours. They would encourage us ta do better, but I don't recall any of them ever puttin' one of us above the others."

"Great," the teen muttered unhappily. "So I'm stuck with messed up parents?"

"You can't expect them to be perfect," the author interrupted, looking in her general direction. "And they probably love you very much. Parents want what's best for their kids, but sometimes the means they hope to achieve that goodness is often misinformed. I have younger siblings, and our parents started to expect more from them after I published my first novel. They don't do it because they hate you; they do it because they want you to be happy."

The girl looked at him as if he'd grown two heads, though she seemed to be thinking over his words as well. "So… you're saying my parents are constantly being passive aggressive… because they love me," she asked, sounding dubious.

"No. I'm just telling you what I know from experience; I have no idea the inner workings of your parents' minds. All I know is that, now being in a parental position myself, I know that we care for our children with every ounce of our being, and want them to be happy in life. Have you tried talking to your parents about this? Or even your brother?"

"Why would I talk to him," she snapped.

"Because if he is in your parent's favor, then it might be beneficial for you to get him on your side. Either way, you should really talk to your family about this."

"Aye," Hudson agreed. "We may be old, but we don't know everything."

Amanda blushed a little at that, staring at her water. "I… Thank you," she said. "Both of you… I feel a lot better now."

"We also have some extra candy, if you want it," Robbins offered.

The teen laughed at that. "No… I think I'll be fine." She finished her water, getting to her feet. "I best be going now; it's nearly ten, and the festival'll be ending soon, and I should be heading home."

"I understand," Jeffrey said, holding out a hand for her to shake. "It was a pleasure to meet you."

"Thanks." She turned towards the gargoyle, shaking his hand as well. "Thank you too. By the way, awesome costume! Is it because of those gargoyles on TV?"

"In a way," he smiled. "They do seem 'pretty cool,' as you young kids say, right?"

Amanda nodded. "Yeah. I think they're cool too, and not dangerous. My parents think otherwise, of course." She shook her head at that. "But I think we should get to know them first before making any judgements; they could be friendly."

"Probably," Hudson agreed.

"Can either of us show you out," Mr. Robbins asked.

"I'm good," she said, opening the sliding door. "Thank you again for the talk... it was helpful. Good bye!"

"Bye," they replied as the girl stepped outside, closed the door behind her, and made her way towards the road.

"Such a nice girl," Robbins said. "I remember her mother going on about her when she was born. I hope she can repair this relationship."

"Aye," the gargoyle agreed. "She seems like a nice lass; she deserves ta be happy."

"Yes…" The author looked in his friend's general direction. "Cards? We still have about an hour before the boys are due back."

"Aye. I'll get the deck."

* * *

**Elijah POV:**

"This has been the best Halloween ever," Brooklyn said, munching on his candy apple.

"Definitely one for the scrapbooks," Elijah added sarcastically, eating his own candied treat.

They sat on a bench in Weisman park, resting after the hi-jinks of the Festival, which was now being torn down, since it was now after 10 PM. They'd had a lot of fun; besides the carnival-type games, there was also a costume contest (neither of them won, but Brooklyn was a finalist), a hay maze set up in the street, and a raffle, from which Elijah won an autumn wreath. The park was big enough for them not to be disturbed, and they were able to talk in peace, killing the time before their curfew.

"Did Galveston have anything like this for Halloween," Brooklyn asked.

"No; it's too big of a place, and it's kinda dangerous at night," the deaf teen explained. "But I still went trick-or-treating with my friends, at least up until last year. I thought I was getting too old for that kind of stuff. I guess I still am, though I'm currently dressed as a detective from the 1920's!"

"Yeah, but at least you got to do something fun tonight instead of staying at home," Brooklyn said, taking another bite of his candy apple.

Elijah nodded, though he frowned at the statement. Technically, he could have gone to Art's party, but he didn't, and he didn't tell Brooklyn about it either. He wasn't planning on telling anyone, either; it wasn't important, and they didn't need to know. So he tried to change the subject. "Well, I guess Uncle Jeffrey would like this wreath," he said, indicating to the circular decoration that lay nearby.

"Yeah. Looks pretty good, for something homemade."

"How do you know it's homemade?"

"Didn't you hear?"

"Apparently not," the teen joked. "But hear what?"

"All the items for the raffle were donated," the gargoyle told him. "The wreath was handmade by someone named Miranda Ross."

Elijah nearly choked on his piece of apple, recognizing the name. "Wait… _Ross?_"

"Yes, Ross?" Brooklyn gave him a suspicious look. "Do you know her?"

"Not her, necessarily… I just… know her daughter." He looked back at the wreath, hesitating before muttering, "The Blockbuster Girl."

"That's her mom," Brooklyn asked, sounding surprised.

"Apparently. Unless there's another Ross family in Weisman I don't know about."

"Well, at least her mom's a good artist. But… can I ask you something?"

"...About Amanda?"

"Yes. Why don't you like her?"

Elijah turned back to his friend, surprised by the question, and almost becoming defensive. "What… what do you mean?"

"I mean that," the gargoyle continued, finishing his candied treat, "besides the whole Blockbuster thing months ago, she seems like a nice person. She's helped you out with Choir and all of that, and it seems that she's trying to be your friend. Why don't you like her?"

"I… I-" The teen was shocked by the question, gaping at his friend; where was this question coming from? "I… do I need an excuse to not like her?"

"Yes. Everyone either likes or dislikes someone for a reason. Is it how she looks?"

"No, she's pretty nice looking."

"Does she pick her nose?"

"Eww, no! Why would you _ask_ that?"

"Then there must be something you're not telling me," Brooklyn said. "Because if I were in your shoes, and there was a girl that was interested in me, I'd at least ask her out to see if I like her."

Elijah dropped his apple in surprise. "_Woah!_ Slow down, dude; I'm NOT asking her out! Maybe you can do that if another female gargoyle ever shows up-"

"Slim chance of that," Brooklyn muttered, kicking the fallen apple away.

"It could happen; aren't there whole clans of gargoyles around the world?"

"Yes, and do I look like I can just fly across the ocean and see them," the gargoyle snapped at him. "And even if I could, I can't leave New York; I'm going to be the leader of the Clan someday, so I need to stay and learn as much as I can without a girl distracting me."

"Good for you," Elijah replied, a little curtly.

"And this may be your only chance to even go out with a girl, so-" Brooklyn stopped talking, but the teen had already turned to face him, his frown replaced with a glare.

"What does _that_ mean," Elijah asked, growing angry at the comment.

"Nothing," the gargoyle said quickly, getting up from the bench and starting down the path. "Let's just go back to the house and-"

"Because I'm deaf," the teen demanded, standing up as well. "Because no one'll wanna date someone with broken ears or a disability?"

"I didn't say that-"

"Well you implied it," the human snapped, feeling almost betrayed by his best friend. "So what if I don't like Amanda? Apparently, I'm gonna be alone for the rest of my life; why bother asking her out now?"

"Elijah-"

"Don't say anything else," the teen interrupted, walking over and grabbing the stupid wreath. "You've said enough! If you're gonna freak out over some random person, I can't imagine what you would've said if I'd told you about the party tonight!" He stopped mid-step, realizing his mistake, his anger turning into panic.

"What party," Brooklyn asked, surprised at the statement. "What party?"

Elijah sighed, realizing there was no way out, and doing his best not to smash his cane over the gargoyle's head out of frustration. "Amanda… invited me to a Halloween party tonight."

His friend gaped at him for a few seconds, stunned, but then he scowled at Elijah. "You got invited to a party by a girl and you said NO?! What kind of an idiot are you?!"

"I'm not an idiot," Elijah snapped back, the anger returning. "And I said no because our original plan was to spend Halloween at my Uncle's house, and right after that, I found out about you guys getting exposed on the news, and I kinda became preoccupied with wondering if my best friends had died!"

"What about last night," the gargoyle demanded. "You said you didn't have any plans!"

"And I didn't; I'd said no to the party, so I technically didn't have plans."

"You could've still gone."

"But I didn't want to."

"Why? Is it because you're deaf? Scared of getting your feelings hurt? Not everyone's gonna be a jerk and make fun of your hearing!"

"Yes," Elijah finally screamed, glaring at his friend. "It's because I'm deaf! I can't stand situations with people around me, especially in a social setting, and the only thing that they'll remember me for are these!" He pointed at his ear. "They treat me like I'm a dumb ass because of these, and I can't stand having to listen to their whispers all the time! And as for Amanda, she's a nice girl, and I don't want to drag her into her being judged because she's dating someone with a disability; they'd think she's just doing it for attention or something! She doesn't deserve that, and she doesn't deserve someone 'broken' like me!"

A gasp came from nearby, and the two friends turned to find Amanda Ross standing a few feet away, staring at them in shock. She wore a plain jacket, jeans, and her hair was tied into two ponytails behind her. Her face was a mask of surprise, staring between Elijah and Brooklyn, who both returned her gaze with shocked expressions.

"A-Amanda," Elijah asked, after getting over his own shock. "What... What're you-"

"I always cut through the park on the way home," she told him, gaping at him. "And I happened to overhear…" She looked over at Brooklyn, still looking surprised. "You… you're a real gargoyle, aren't you? Like those creatures on the news?"

Brooklyn and Elijah exchanged panicked looks. It seemed crazy that, so quickly, a fun Halloween had quickly turned towards the other side. Now, Amanda apparently had heard everything they'd said about her, and the part about Brooklyn being a gargoyle. Could things possibly get worse?

Suddenly, something bright shot down from the sky, hitting Brooklyn and sending him flying into the bench, flipping over it before landing with a thud on the ground.

"Brooklyn," Elijah yelled, running over to see what had happened after a moment or two of shock. The gargoyle appeared unconscious, and something that smelled like smoke came from him. Almost as if he'd been struck by lightning…

"Evening, you two," a voice said from behind him, and the deaf teen turned around as Amanda gave a small scream.

Whatever it was, it was bout the same height as Goliath, and had wings, but the similarities stopped there. It looked like a walking and talking cat; not a house cat, but a wild one, like a cougar or something. It had brown fur, wore some sort of blue and white outfit, and it smiled, revealing sharp teeth. It had large, bat-like wings on his back, and for a second, Elijah wondered if it was a gargoyle. As he stared at it, though, he realized it must be one of the mutates that Elisa's brother was a member of, but he didn't understand why it would attack Brooklyn. Then he remembered Lex mentioning one of the mutates that had tried to take over the Labyrinth, and was supposed to be locked up in the Labyrinth for his crimes.

"Oh no," he muttered.

"So you must be Brooklyn's friends," Fang said, looking at the two scared kids with a sadistic grin. "I'll deal with you two later. Now, I'm gonna have to ask ya both to stand aside." He held up his clawed hands, which suddenly cackled with electricity, startling the two teens. "I've got me a gargoyle to kill!"

* * *

**Thailog POV:**

Thailog walked over to his father, his gauntlet blade the same red as the wound in Goliath's side, which was bleeding profusely.

"I don't think a band-aid's gonna help," he said mockingly, grinning down at Goliath.

"GOLIATH!" Thailog turned to find Broadway, Angela and Lexington standing there, all wearing ridiculous costumes and looking stunned by the sight of their leader wounded and dying.

"So it looks like Hudson and Brooklyn are in Weisman," he said out loud. "Don't worry; I sent an old friend to pay them a visit!"

"The clones," Lex said. "What are they-"

"We've come to collect what is ours," Thailog said, turning to his faithful creations. "Attack."

And on that note, the Xanatos Halloween Bash suddenly became deadly.

* * *

**And that's part three; I realized that Elijah, Brooklyn and Amanda are technically teens, so I figured there'd be some arguments and stuff.** **Also, the next chapter's the end of the Halloween Arc, with the rest of the story continuing after that.**

**Feel free to follow or favorite this story to be updated on new chapters, and feel free to leave a review on this chapter or others if you want. ****And, as usual, have a safe and happy week/weekend!**

**-aggiefrogger**


	13. Chapter 13

**Hey Readers and Gargoyle Fans,**

**Here's the final part of the Halloween story line; hope it was worth the wait! It's kind of action-packed and fast-paced, so I hope it's not too confusing. I hope you like it!**

* * *

**Halloween: Part Four**

**Elijah POV:**

Elijah gaped at the mutate standing in front of him, momentarily unsure of what to do. Of course, what did you do when a guy who could shoot electricity from their hands attacks your best friend with intent to kill him?

Apparently, Amanda knew what to do. Stepping forward, she pulled something from her pocket, aimed it at Fang, and fired. It took the deaf teen a few moments to recognize the item as pepper spray, but by then, the evil mutate had gotten an eyeful of it.

"GAH," he yelled, his hands flying to his eyes as he fell to his knees, tears and curses flowing. "OWW… SHIT! THAT BURNS! … I'LL KILL YA FOR THAT, YA FREAKIN' BIT-" At that moment, Elijah ran forward, swinging the heavy wreath at Fang's head, knocking him off-balance. Looking back, his cane would've been a smarter choice, but they had to move.

"C'mon," he said, grabbing Amanda's hand and pulling her towards Brooklyn, who was staggering to his feet, looking stunned. "Dude, we gotta get out of here!"

"Who _is_ that," Amanda asked, gaping as the mutate continued to wither and curse on the ground. "Is he a gargoyle too?"

"No," Brooklyn said, finally on his feet and looking ready to go. "We need to leave; head to the Library."

"Why?"

"There's a ladder up the side of it; I can glide us to safety from there."

_"Glide,"_ the girl repeated as the three of them hurried up the path away from there, eventually reaching the main road. There were still some people about, so they did their best to look inconspicuous as they headed toward the Library. Elijah could tell Amanda was trying her best not to freak out, but he continued to lead her away from Fang, leading her up the ladder while Brooklyn scaled the wall.

"He's a real gargoyle," she whispered as Brooklyn unfurled his wings, checking the wind currents. "And that other one at your uncle's house-"

"Why were you at my uncle's house," the deaf teen asked, putting the wreath around his neck so they could bring it with them.

"This'll be fine," Brooklyn said before she could reply. "Try not to squirm too much."

"I'm not gliding or whatever leads to instant death," Amanda said firmly.

"Would you rather deal with Fang back there?" At that moment, they saw a stream of electricity arc from the area of the park, and knew that he'd be after them in a minute or two.

"You better not drop me," she said as Brooklyn grabbed her and Elijah around the arms, the two teens still holding hands to avoid being separated.

"Only if you don't scream," the gargoyle replied, jumping into the air and allowing the wind to lift them into the sky.

Amanda nearly did scream, but Elijah slapped his free hand over her mouth; the last thing they needed was for anyone to see them flying over the town. Fortunately, it was late enough that not a lot of people were out, and the Library was located near the edge, allowing them to quickly soar away from the buildings and towards the ocean, soon gliding parallel to the beach.

"We'll get Hudson," Brooklyn said. "He and Bronx'll really even the score!"

"Wait," Amanda said, pushing Elijah's hand free, "those weren't costumes? They're real gargoyles too?"

"When did you see them," the deaf teen asked. "I thought you were at Art's party?"

"I left. Art's a jack-" She gave a short scream as the gargoyle dipped a little to catch another air draft. "I... I just didn't find it as fun." She looked around them, still scared, but also slightly impressed. "I take you do this often?"

"Not really," Elijah replied honestly. "I like to stay on the ground. At least we should be arriving at my uncle's in about-"

Suddenly, Brooklyn gave a cry of pain and swerved sharply in the air, heading towards the beach. All three of them screamed, and at the last minute, the gargoyle was able to break their fall with his wings, though they still hit the sand hard enough to throw them several feet. Elijah and Amanda's hands were separated, and all three of them landed a few feet from one another, the wreath and cane flying off somewhere.

The deaf teen gasped, trying to get some air into his lungs. There was only one reason that Brooklyn would crash-land on a beach, and the teen knew that they had seconds. Sitting up, he spotted three things: his cane, which was a foot from him, his wreath, which was close to Amanda, and Fang, who was flying towards them, hands cackling with electricity. It was likely he'd shot Brooklyn from the sky.

"Incoming," Elijah yelled, scrambling for his cane as a blast hit the sand a foot from him.

"Now you've pissed me off," Fang yelled angrily, landing a few yards from them, eyes still red from the pepper spray. "I was gonna let the brats live, but now they die with you!"

"Not while I'm standing," Brooklyn said, eyes glowing with anger as he launched himself at the mutate, tackling him to the ground.

Elijah had heard about gargoyles being good fighters, but he'd never known how well they could fight until he saw Brooklyn fight Fang. The gargoyle was almost like a wild animal, snarling and using his claws to drive the mutate away from the two teens. They threw several punches at one another, while Brooklyn also avoided shocks of electricity. Looking to his left, Elijah saw Amanda also looked stunned, gaping at the two of them fighting, and gave a small scream as a stray shot of electricity nearly hit her.

"Let's get out of here," Elijah yelled, stumbling towards her and pulling her to her feet. "We'll get Hudson and Bronx; they're not far from here." She nodded, and the two of them started towards the road, determined to help the gargoyle. The deaf teen wasn't too scared to leave his friend; the guy had fought vikings back in 994, and could take care of himself. At least, until he heard a zap, a cry of pain, followed by a triumphant roar.

"Not so fast," someone yelled, and the two turned in time to see Fang flying towards them, Brooklyn lying in the sand behind him. "Little Miss Pepper Spray ain't going anywhere!"

"GET DOWN!" They ducked to avoid another blast of electricity, and as he stood back up, the deaf teen swung his cane, hitting the mutate in the arm. Fang howled, but backhanded the teen, knocking him into the sand. Amanda fell back, throwing her wreath up at the mutate in an effort to stop him. He simply laughed, batting it aside as he prepared to electrocute her.

"NO," Elijah yelled, running towards the mutate and tackling him to the ground, aiming a punch that was quickly stopped.

"Aww, looks like someone's tryin' to be a night in shining armor," Fang said mockingly as the deaf teen struggled to pull his hand free. Then his eyes narrowed as he noticed the teen's hearing aids. "What're those?"

Suddenly, a blue blur tackled the mutate, knocking him and Elijah apart. Looking up, the teen was shocked to see Bronx, snarling and eyes aglow, leaping forward to attack the evil mutate again. A thud came from nearby, and the teen turned to find Hudson running towards them, drawing his sword

"Get behind us, lad," the older gargoyle yelled. "Get ta safety!"

"C'mon," the deaf teen said, running towards Amanda and pulling her to her feet. "We gotta get out of here!"

"NO," he heard Fang yell, and the teen turned in time to see the stream of electricity hit him in the chest.

Immediately, pain tore through the teen's body, making his muscles freeze as he nearly bit off his own tongue. He couldn't tell if he was screaming or not, though he really wanted to. He couldn't hear himself screaming, but when he felt something pop in his ears, he couldn't hear anything anymore. Then he was falling backwards, and he knew no more.

* * *

**Brooklyn POV:**

Brooklyn felt someone nudging him awake, and he opened his eyes groggily, recognizing the garg-dog standing above him.

"Bronx," he asked, still sounding weak from Fang's little electric shock therapy. "You made it." The mute gargoyle only nudged him again, looking back at something over his shoulder. His strength returning, Brooklyn sat up, looking at the scene before him.

Hudson was fighting Fang, deflecting the mutate's electricity with his sword as Bronx ran back to help him. He couldn't see Elijah or Amanda anywhere; obviously, they'd run back to Elijah's uncle's house and warned the others to the fight. He looked down at his costume, which was burned and ripped in some places, and he had a few injuries. Now, however, was not the time to do first aid; now was the time to end this.

And end it they did; Fang may have had electricity, but he was no match for three gargoyles, and was defeated minutes later, falling unconscious to the sand. Ripping off part of his costume, Brooklyn used the fabric to tie the mutate's hands behind his back, as well as gag the mutate. He had no idea how Fang escaped or found them, but he was determined to make sure he didn't get a chance to attack again.

"Think he'll stay quiet on the way back to the city," he asked.

"I hope so," Hudson replied. Bronx started barking, and the two turned towards the third gargoyle, who seemed to be sniffing at something in the sand. Seconds later, they saw it was a some_one_, not a something, and the two quickly ran over to the teen to see if he was okay.

Elijah was lying in the sand, part of his costume burned away from where the electricity had hit him. He was unconscious, but the garg-dog was still trying to nudge him awake. The smell of burned fabric and hair was present in the air. The two gargoyles were stunned, shocked that they'd missed their friend getting hurt.

"He's alive," Hudson said, noticing the boy's breathing, but Brooklyn was too preoccupied with his friend's ears to notice. The electric shock had shorted out the teen's hearing aids, and blood trickled from the teen's ears.

"Where's Amanda," Brooklyn asked, kneeling to examine Elijah's injuries.

"Hudson," a new voice called, and the two looked up to find Amanda leading Jeffrey Robbins towards the scene, Gilly at his side. "Where is he," the blind author asked once they'd gotten closer.

"Right here," the old gargoyle replied, allowing the girl to lead the man to his nephew, his seeing eye dog running forward to meet Bronx. He knelt in the sand, feeling around until he found his nephew's hand, grabbing it and feeling his pulse.

"Thank God," he muttered. "He's alive. Amanda got me and explained everything; I was curious as to why you and Bronx ran off suddenly. I called an ambulance in case anyone was hurt." He looked up. "How bad is he?"

"His ears," Brooklyn said. "It shorted out his hearing aids or something; they're bleeding." Amanda gasped at that, gaping at the unconscious teen. "How'd Hudson know to come here?"

"It was Bronx," the gargoyle explained. "He started barkin' and hollerin', so I followed him."

"You three should leave," Jeffrey suggested. "They ambulance will be here any minute. What about the other gargoyle-"

"Mutate," Hudson corrected. "And we've got him; he'll be comin' back with us."

"What's a mutate," Amanda asked.

"Long story," Brooklyn said, looking back towards Fang. "We can't carry him and Bronx. Can he-"

"He can stay with us," the blind author said. "We'll say he's wearing a costume."

"Thanks," Hudson said. He walked over to get the mutate as Brooklyn looked down at Elijah again, unable to not feel guilty at allowing his friend to get hurt.

"It's fine," Mr. Robbins suddenly spoke up, as if sensing the gargoyle's thoughts. "It wasn't your fault. If anything, I should thank you for giving him and Amanda the chance to escape."

"Yeah… I guess I did." Brooklyn hesitantly got to his feet, walking over and grabbing Fang, he and Hudson balancing the mutate between the two. Giving the humans one last look, they took off into the air.

"Where should we go," the younger gargoyle asked. "Take him straight to the Labyrinth?"

"Nay," Hudson said. "He didn't break out on his own, and he didn't just stumble upon ye; we'll go to the Castle, get some backup before we figure out who helped him."

Brooklyn nodded, looking back towards Manhattan as the two of them flew away, hoping that things were fine back in the city.

* * *

**Amanda POV:**

It took some convincing to let my parents know I was fine, and yes, that crazy dude that attacked me and Elijah with a taser had run off. Of course, I'd give the cops an official statement later, but first, I had someone to visit.

I sat with Mr. Robbins in the ICU, waiting for some sign that Elijah was awake. It was well past two AM, but I didn't care. Gilly and Bronx sat nearby, earning a few odd looks, but no one kicked them out. Jason would come pick me up later, but right now, I was too hyped up on adrenaline to think about my brother as I thought over everything that had happened in the past few hours.

The party. My talk with Mr. Robbins. Elijah and gargoyles. Nearly dying. It was a lot to think about, and it made my head spin. Gargoyles were not only real, but they were also friends with the Robbins family. If anyone had told me that Elijah was wrapped up with gargoyles, I wouldn't have believed him. Well, I also used to think that mutates didn't existed, but now, I was just waiting for something else to happen.

"He's fine," a doctor said, approaching us as we stood to greet him. "His hearing aids were destroyed; no interior damage to the ears themselves. The blood's from small cuts, but nothing major. We'll keep him here overnight for observation to make sure there's no nerve damage. Would you like to see him?"

"Yes," Mr. Robbins said, allowing me to lead him towards the room, Gilly and Bronx flanking us.

Elijah was laying in a hospital bed, hooked up to the many machines and an IV. He was awake, and stared at us as we entered. I stood by the door with Bronx and his uncle slowly walked forward, grabbing the teen's hand that lay on top of the covers. I couldn't look Elijah in the eye, so I instead looked at the heart monitor, calmly beeping in the background.

"Can he see my mouth," the blind author asked me.

"Yes," Elijah replied, his voice slightly off-key and too loud to be considered normal. He squeezed his uncle's hand. "Sorry for the scare."

"I was expecting something like this to happen eventually," Mr. Robbins said honestly. "But I will admit, I didn't expect you to get hurt. I figured you'd make it safely back."

"So did I," the teen said honestly, cracking a smile. "I'll try not to do it again. How're Brooklyn and the others?"

"They took Fang back to the city, but…" The author hesitated, giving me a quick look before turning back to his nephew. "I got a call from Elisa: the Labyrinth was attacked by Thailog, along with the rest of their clan. Everyone's fine, but Goliath needed medical attention."

Elijah gaped at the news; whoever these other gargoyles were, he obviously knew them. "Wow… is that why Fang-"

"Most likely. Apparently, Fang was supposed to keep you three there long enough for Thailog to come, but things didn't go to plan. He's being held at the-" He stopped, gave me another looked, and quickly signed something with his right hand that I couldn't understand, but Elijah did. "But what's important is that everyone, including you, is okay."

"Thanks." Elijah looked over at me, and I quickly straightened up. "Amanda?" I hesitated, but eventually walked over to the side of the bed.

"I… I'm glad to see you're okay," I said, making sure he could see my mouth and lipread it. "And… I promise not to tell anyone."

"Thanks," the deaf teen replied, looking embarrassed himself. "But... remind me, 'cause I'm not real sure if I can recall it correctly... did you pepper spray Fang?"

I nodded, a small smile on my face. "Yeah, I've been carrying that can for nearly two years; glad it helped."

"Yeah." He sobered after that, looking almost meek. "I… I wanted to apologize, though… I-I've been a dick, to say the least-"

"Elijah," his uncle chastised.

"-and I've allowed myself to remain mad at you when you've only wanted to be my friend, and help me." He looked away. "I'm sorry."

I blinked in surprise; I wasn't expecting him to say that, if anything. At first, I wondered if his uncle had told him to apologize, but then I realized that he'd been unconscious since yesterday, and I recalled the surprised look he'd given me in the park; surprised, and almost guilty.

"I'm sorry too," I told him, saying it before I lost the nerve to do so. "For snapping at you all those times and for insulting you that first time. And… I forgive you. Can we just... agree to start over and try to be friends?"

To my surprise, he smiled; I'd thought my apology was awkward (and maybe it was), but he didn't seem to notice or care. "Yes," he said. "I think I'd like that." I couldn't help it, I smiled too.

"You have to leave now," the doctor said. "He needs some rest. Also, someone's waiting for you, ma'am."

"Thanks." I turned back to Elijah. "I take it you won't be at school today?"

"Yep," he replied. "Tell Flemming for me?"

"I will." I led his uncle out of the room, giving the teen one last look before we turned the corner.

"That was a good start," Mr. Robbins said, smiling a little. "I think you two will become friends in no time!"

"Thanks," I said, smiling as well. Maybe it wasn't the most conventional way to break the ice, but at least I finally got to pepper spray a bad guy.

* * *

**Thailog POV:**

"Here you go," Thailog told Sevarius, handing him the gauntlet. "All samples, as you requested."

"Splendid," the doctor grinned, sliding the briefcase of money across the table. "And your reward."

"Excellent." He took the case, already telling by the weight that all of it was there. "Nice doing business with you."

"Anytime!"

Leaving the rendezvous spot, he approached the two figures waiting nearby; one being the only clone to not betray him, the other being a mysterious girl who seemed older than she really looked. "By the time he realizes some of those samples are from the clones," Thailog told them, "we'll be long gone!"

"Excellent," Brentwood grinned, the clone already embracing his new livelihood. "Now what, Master?"

"Now, we go back to headquarters and plan our next move. But, Shari," he asked, turning towards the woman, "any news of Fang?"

"He's being held at Xanatos'," she replied. "They'll most likely keep him there until the Labyrinth is secure again."

"Good." Sure, it was bad, being betrayed by so many of the clones, but in the end, he still got the money. What happened next would make any past mistakes insignificant. "Come you two; we have much to talk about."

* * *

**And that's it for the Halloween storyline! I hope you all enjoyed it!**

**Yeah, I know this chapter's kinda fast-paced, but I wanted to match how fast-paced the fighting was, as well as show how the different POVs came together. I hope the Thailog bit at the end was a nice addition!**

**Feel free to follow or favorite this story to be updated on new chapters, and feel free to leave a review on this chapter or others if you want. ****And, as usual, have a safe and happy week/weekend!**

**-aggiefrogger**


	14. Chapter 14

**Hey Readers! Welcome back!**

**Here's a new chapter for you all! I know that, after Halloween, things aren't gonna be as action-packed in this chapter, but there's always some peace after a storm, so this is that chapter.**

**Enjoy!**

* * *

**Several Talks:**

**Elijah POV:**

By the time Elijah went back to school after the Halloween mishap, a lot had happened and changed in his life and several others.

First, he learned of an attack at the castle at the same time Fang was in Weisman. Apparently, it was Thailog, Goliath's clone, who'd led the charge, nearly killing Goliath and leading the other clones against the Clan. The clone had first gone to the Labyrinth, attacked Derek and the other mutates, took the clones, and freed Fang, giving him the task of going after Brooklyn. Everyone there was fine, though someone name Maggie was hurt pretty badly, and was later revealed to be pregnant. The other clones, save one that resembled Lex, left with Thailog after the attack, the rest of them returning to the Labyrinth afterwards; Fang was returned to his cell there as well. It was surprising to learn how much had happened the same night he'd nearly been fried, but that did little to prepare Elijah for some more shocking news.

Macbeth [who was a real person] asked the gargoyles to accompany him to the British Isles to help him guard something called the Stone of Destiny as it was being transferred. At first, the Trio and Angela had been asked to go, but all except Lex expressed their wishes to stay, so Hudson and Lex had gone in their place. They had left the second day of November, which was the day before Elijah had been discharged from the hospital. He didn't know how long the two would be gone, but he wished he had been able to say goodbye to them before they had left.

And finally, there was Elijah's life. The choir concert, which was the Monday after Halloween, was missing two key students. First, star singer and soloist Art, who had two teeth missing and couldn't talk for another few days due to the dentist gauze in his mouth. And two, the piano player Elijah, who was released from the hospital earlier that day, but unable to play anything since he couldn't hear. Naturally, Mrs. Flemming had nearly lost it, and she couldn't reschedule, so they had to cut one song from the concert, and someone else had to sing Art's solo.

Elijah, however, wasn't that concerned with some stupid concert he never wanted to be a part of. Now, he was tentative friends with Amanda Ross, he would be without hearing aids for about three weeks while he waited for new ones, and his uncle had hired Mason Grant as their new driver. If he had known a week ago that any of this would happen, he would have hid in his room until Thanksgiving. Since he hadn't, this now meant that life was about to get difficult.

_"At least you still have that old hearing aid,"_ his uncle told him over dinner Sunday night. _"You won't have to go to school tomorrow unable to hear."_

"I don't need it," the teen replied, reading his uncle's lips. "Besides, it kinda throws me off when I can only hear on one side."  
The blind author's face became thoughtful. _"I see."_ They both knew the teen was still slightly self-conscious about his hearing aids, and that the old one was more visible than his broken ones.

The next day, which was November 4th, Elijah was ready to bike to school, but was surprised to find Mason Grant standing by the car, ready to drive him.

"You don't have to drive me," the teen said.

_"Your uncle insisted,"_ the man replied, speaking slowly so the deaf teen could understand him. _"Apparently, he wants to make sure you don't get attacked again."_

Elijah sighed. "Fine… could you drop me off a block away from school, though?"

Mr. Grant nodded understandingly. _"Yep."_

The drive wasn't long, and the teen stared out the window as the chauffeur drove him. When they passed the spot where the fight had taken place, he tried not to think about all that had happened since then, his ears feeling hollow as silence surrounded him. He had brought his extra hearing aid in case he absolutely needed it, and it sat in the pocket of his backpack, waiting to be used; he wanted to use it only if absolutely necessary, since it was more visible than his damaged pair.

"Thanks," Elijah said as he stepped out of the vehicle when it stopped a street away from the high school.

_"Good luck,"_ Mason Grant told him, giving him a kind smile. _"I'll pick you up later today."_

"I actually might go to the library after school. Could you-"

_"Say no more; I'll be there at five."_ The driver rolled up the window and drove off.

_At least he's a good driver,_ the deaf teen thought as he walked towards the school, mentally preparing himself for the day. The school looked the same, but it was like a silent film; he could see mouths moving and see students moving around, but there was nothing there.

He made his way through the halls, wary to not bump into anyone, and went to his first class. Fortunately, his seat was located within sight of the teacher, so he figured he could lip-read what she said. Unfortunately, he had forgotten that this teacher liked to walk around, making note-taking a difficult task. He managed to catch bits and pieces of what she was say, plus what was written on the board, but he still left the class feeling that he hadn't learned anything. His other classes were the same, but at least lunch, which was usually noisy and bothersome, was peaceful. His afternoon classes were also fine, and then it came to Choir.

Approaching the room, he could see a crowd of choir students waiting outside the door, peering in through the doorway. When he got close enough for them to notice, they stared at him with looks of shock, fear, embarrassment, and worry. They parted for him, and he approached the closed door, looking in through the window to see the classroom.

Mrs. Flemming was in there, yelling at Amanda while Art sat nearby. At first Elijah didn't notice anything off about the other teens, but then he noticed how close the girl looked to tears as well as something in Art's mouth. Gaping, he tried to read Mrs. Flemming's mouth, but was unable to do so.

He felt someone tap him on the shoulder, and turned to find one of the choir students standing there, motioning to their ears.

"They got damaged," he explained, hoping his voice wasn't too messed up. "I can still read lips if you speak slowly."

_"Amanda punched Art in the mouth on Halloween night,"_ a girl said, speaking so slow, the deaf teen nearly misunderstood her. _"Messed up his teeth and throat so he can't sing."_

"What? Why?"

Everyone looked awkward at that, but then the same girl continued. _"He… he made fun of you, since you weren't at the party. She got mad, punched him and left. Next thing we know, we heard that you two were mugged or something."_ They all looked at him now. _"What happened?"_

Elijah was in shock, the words repeating in his mind. Amanda… punched a guy for him. She didn't have to; he wasn't at the party, and he doubted he would've found out, but she still had chosen to stand up for him. He always knew Art was a jerk, but the fact that she not only punched one guy and then pepper sprayed another on the same night to help him, it made him feel more guilty about being mean to her in the past. He looked back at the door, knowing that was about to change; she defended him, so he would defend her. Steeling himself, he pushed open the door, stepping into the room.

Mrs. Flemming and the others looked up as he approached, momentarily silent. Amanda's eyes were watery, but she still refused to cry. Art only glared at him, the gauze the dentist had probably put in his mouth preventing him from speaking.

"_I see someone's back from their hospital visit,"_ the choir teacher said, and the deaf teen could imagine her nagging voice as she spoke. _"What a Halloween __**you**__ must've had! I take it your city friend is alright?"_

Elijah nodded. "Yep. He left before Amanda and I were mugged."

"_I heard about that too. A lot of funny things happen ever since you moved here. I don't recall muggings happening in a town as simple as this one."_

The teen held back a retort, figuring he shouldn't make things worse. "I just wanted to make sure we were clear on a few things. Clearly, I can't hear anything for the next three weeks, and as you can tell by my voice, my pitch is pretty much non existent while I'm like this. I can still play the piano if you conduct me, and I have a spare hearing aid that only goes in one ear."

The teacher seemed momentarily stunned by his words, but she quickly got over it. _"Well, I suggest you wear that aid until your replacements come in. Does your voice improve with only one hearing aid?_"

"Kind of, but I'm not exactly the lead singer, so I hope that it doesn't affect the choir overall," he said.

"_It won't, but now I've got to figure out what to do with these two."_ Mrs. Flemming looked over at Art. _"He'll be like this for the rest of the week, and can't even say a word! And Miss Ross here is the one that punched him!"_ The puncher in question looked wilted and defeated.

"Yeah, but I think it's a proper punishment for someone who acts like a jerk both inside and outside of class," Elijah said.

The three other people turned to him, Amanda giving him a grateful smile. _"So you knew what happened to him,"_ the teacher asked, glaring at him. _"I was informed of Miss Ross' right hook this past weekend. Was this some sort of plan between you two to sabotage the concert?"_

"Certainly not," the deaf teen replied, not afraid to keep the disrespect out of his voice; she'd crossed the line, and now was the time to fight back. "I'm just here to say that Amanda shouldn't be punished for something that happened outside off school hours. If anything, you should punish _Art_ for being a bully and getting himself punched! You can give me detention if you want, but I would be happy to tell the principal the circumstances surrounding it; I may be new here, but I'm pretty sure yelling at a student during school hours with your class waiting outside isn't proper teaching behavior."

Everyone but Elijah could hear a pin drop in the silence that followed. Mrs. Flemming looked like she'd swallowed a rottoon bite of apple, while Amanda beamed at him. Art, meanwhile, glared at him angrily, and the deaf teen gave him a grin, showing his perfectly straight teeth. He didn't know how loud he was talking, but based on the look the choir teacher gave the door behind him, it was apparent the class had heard what he said.

The teacher didn't say anything, even when she shot him a death glare and walked over to the door, letting the class in. Everyone was staring at him, but for the first time, it wasn't because of his hearing. The whole class knew Mrs. Flemming was awful, but no one had stood up to her and won before. When everyone took their spots, she started the class as if nothing happened, though she refused to look Elijah in the eye.

_Got you,_ he thought, smiling as he watched everyone else sing.

...

"_That was __**amazing,**__"_ Amanda said again, following him as they walked away from the high school, heading towards the Library. She didn't have anything after school, and had asked if they could talk. He said yes, and there they were.

"_I've never seen anyone do what you did,"_ she continued, careful to allow him to see her face. _"It was very brave… thanks for that."_

"It's no problem," he said, blushing a little. "You punched Art to defend me, so it's fair that I return the favor."

"_I'm pretty sure everyone in choir likes you now,"_ she told him. _"Except Art and Mrs. Flemming of course!"_ They both laughed a little at that, waiting at the crosswalk. _"Though I do need to talk to about the whole gar-"_

"SHH," he hissed, looking around to make sure no one nearby had heard her. "Not here, and we can't talk in the library." He noticed a nearby payphone. "Give me a minute."

Ten minutes later, Mason Grant had picked up the two teens, taking them to the Robbins home, not at all annoyed at the change in plans. Mr. Robbins welcomed Amanda, asking if things were alright at home. She said it was, and he left to make some tea while the two sat in the library, seeming to know what was about to happen.

"So," the deaf teen said, putting in his spare hearing aid, "I know what happened on Halloween was… crazy."

"Understatement of the year," Amanda commented.

"I'm just gonna say now that what I'm about to tell you is not to leave this room, and that you CANNOT tell anyone. Not even your parents; the last thing I need is to be sent to a foster home because my uncle's been accused of 'child endangerment.'"

"I promise," she said. "I mean, I doubt I have many friends left after Halloween, and my parents would freak out, so, I'll keep the secret."  
Elijah nodded. "Okay… It started this past summer."

He spent the next half hour telling her everything that had happened since he'd moved there, as well as information about the gargoyle clan. Uncle Jeffrey came in with their drinks and joined in, every now and then adding a detail his nephew had left out. They weren't revealing the gargoyle secret without permission; they had gotten permission from the gargoyles to tell Amanda days ago, so they knew what to say already. When they finished, Amanda looked surprised and awe-struck.

"Wow," she said. "That's… amazing. So there's a whole group of them in New York?" They hadn't told her where specifically [they omitted other details as well, just to be safe].

"Yes," Elijah said. "The night we were attacked, their home was attacked at the same time. Fortunately, no one died."

"I'm just glad the two of you were safe," Mr. Robbins said. "I'm almost considering asking a guard to protect you during the day, Elijah."

"I'd rather have Brooklyn teach me to fight," the deaf teen said. "He offered to last night."

"I may take him up on that offer."

"Will I be okay," Amanda asked.

"Yes. Fang had no way of knowing who either of you are, so you should be fine. However, in case he told Thailog or anyone else that you live here, I may ask Brooklyn and the others if they would mind looking over your house at night as well."

"Thanks." She took a sip of her tea. "I just… didn't expect to end up in all of this."

"Neither did I," Elijah said honestly. "Life's funny like that."

"Well," she said, standing up, "I better be going; my parents'll be wondering where I am."

"Of course," the blind author said, the two men standing as well. "Thank you for visiting, and thank you for keeping the secret."

"No problem," she said, smiling as she wakled towards the backdoor. "And there's no need to drive me back; I can walk."

"Okay. Have a nice evening."

"See you tomorrow," Elijah said, smiling as Amanda gave him a small wave and walked outside, heading towards the path.

"She's a nice girl," his uncle said, collecting their empty mugs. "And she certainly seems to like you."

The deaf teen turned to his uncle. "What?"

"And you like her."

"I never said I liked her," the teen said quickly, feeling his cheeks redden. "I mean… I… Does she think I like her?"

"No," his uncle said simply. "But anyone who would either punch or talk down a teacher for someone they don't know that well must have some sort of feelings for one another." The author smiled as he and Gilly left the room, leaving a very confused teen in his wake.

* * *

**Brooklyn POV:**

_"So you told her today,"_ Brooklyn asked.

_ "Uh huh,"_ the teen said, signing the word for yes. _"And I told off Mrs. Flemming for yelling at her."_ It was later that night, and the two friends sat in the library, discussing all that had happened that day.

_ "Really?"_ His friend gaped at him. _"How'd you manage that?"_

_ "Disability perks."_

_ "That's not a real thing."_

_ "I know. I just spoke the truth, and left her silent."_

_ "Good for you!"_ He took a sip of water. _"We got a call from Macbeth today."_

_ "How are they,"_ Elijah asked.

_"They're safely in the UK, and woke up incredibly jet lagged. They're gonna wait a few days before they move the actual stone, to give them time to adjust."_

_ "They better bring me back something British,"_ the teen said.

The gargoyle laughed at that. _"Yeah, I'm positive that'll be their top priority!"_

_ "Hey! How often do you guys get to spend some leisure time in another country?"_

_ "That is true."_ Brooklyn sighed, cracking his knuckles to keep his hands from getting too tired._ "And you and Amanda…"_

_ "We're just friends,"_ the deaf teen told him.

_"For now."_

_"Dude, we gotta get you a girlfriend!"_

_ "I'll keep that in mind the next time we're offered a chance to leave the city,"_ he replied, the two of them laughing after that.

They continued to talk like this into the night, simply catching up on their lives, glad that nothing bad was happening.

* * *

**Mason POV:**

"Not much has happened so far," the Illuminati member reported over the phone. "There's no sign of a gargoyle around here, and no nearby town has any new statues anywhere."

"_Keep an eye out,"_ his fellow member advised him. _"They'll make their return eventually; that attack on Halloween probably scared them a little."_

"Of course," the driver replied, noticing he was getting another call from his other boss. "Gotta go." He hung up the phone, answering Mr. Robbin's phone call, asking if he would pick up his nephew and a friend from school that day. It wasn't the most glamorous job, but it was still a job, and he made his way out of the rented apartment, going towards the car parked outside.

* * *

**That's it for this chapter! I know, not a lot of plot in this one, but it give us some character development, as well as gives them some time to rest after nearly dying.**

**Feel free to follow or favorite this story to be updated on new chapters, and feel free to leave a review on this chapter or others if you want. ****And, as usual, have a safe and happy week/weekend!**

**Quick PSA: _PLEASE __DO NOT DO STUPID STUFF AND GO OUTSIDE UNNECESSARILY AND SPREAD GERMS DURING A GLOBAL PANDEMIC!_ Seriously, you guys are awesome, and while being sick gives you more time to read fanfiction, it's not good for you or your loved ones. Thank you.**

**-aggiefrogger**


	15. Chapter 15

**Hey everyone!**

**I'm back with a new chapter! Since you all liked the Halloween story line so much, I thought I'd do a chapter on Thanksgiving. It involves many surprises and reveals, so prepare yourself for the unexpected! Enjoy!**

* * *

**Home and Heartache:**

**Elijah POV:**

When Thanksgiving time rolled around, Elijah was fully prepared to spend it with his uncle in New York. Sure, he would miss his family back in Texas, but he figured he would see them for Christmas; besides, they would probably invite the Manhattan Clan over for the meal, so it would work out. However, he was surprised when Uncle Jeffrey informed him they were flying down to Galveston to spend the holidays with Aunt Martha and her family. Naturally, Elijah was thrilled; he hadn't seen his friends or family since summer, and wanted to tell them everything he'd been through since leaving. The only problem was he couldn't.

"It's not my decision," Brooklyn explained to him. "You know Goliath; if he hasn't met them in person-"

"I know," Elijah sighed, tapping one of the keyboard keys absentmindedly. "And after what happened before Halloween, I know better than to reveal your secret. They'll probably ask how many friends I've made, and I'll just have to tell them about the one human friend I know."

"You could lie and say we're human," the gargoyle suggested.

"Your names sound too fake; they'd think I'm making you up."

"Then make up fake names."

"I'll just say I've been alone and miserable my whole time here," the deaf teen said sarcastically. "Though I shouldn't be complaining; I get to go home again! I get to see my old friends and family!" The days leading up to their departure were happy ones, and the teen had his bag packed days in advance, ready to go. He was in especially brighter spirits, since his replacement hearing aids had come earlier than expected.

Elijah and his uncle flew out of JFK the Monday before Thanksgiving; the blind author knew someone with a private plane, so they were able to fly directly to the Scholes Airport in Galveston Island, just outside the city of Galveston. The teen, who had never been in a private plane, stared out the window at the ocean on his left and the island on his right, slowly getting closer. He smiled, buckling his seatbelt as they prepared for landing.

The island airport was tiny, compared to the ones in Dallas and Houston, but it was still cool, and just in view of the Moody Gardens Rainforest Pyramid that had opened three years ago. It looked like they were building another one, and hoped he could visit it next Summer. However, that paled in comparison when he and his uncle exited the baggage claim to find Aunt Martha and his cousins standing in the terminal, along with his deaf friend June, smiling and holding a handmade sign that read 'Robbins Thanksgiving - Welcome, Elijah and Uncle Jeffrey!'

"June," he yelled, running forward and hugging his oldest friend, nearly lifting her off her feet. He let her go and stepped back. _"How are you,"_ he asked and signed, unable to keep the grin off his face.

"_I'm great,"_ she signed back, grinning as well. _"I missed you so much! I was going crazy with no one to talk to!"_

"Welcome home, Elijah," the teen's Aunt Martha said, giving him a hug. "We missed you so much!" His younger cousins nearly tackled him to the ground, laughing and all talking at once. "And it's good to finally see you in person again, Jeffrey."

"I missed you, Martha," he said, hugging his sister.

"Uncle Jeffy," one of the younger cousins yelled, and they all swarmed him and Gilly, the latter getting a lot of attention and compliments.

"_Anything happen while I was gone,"_ Elijah signed.

"_Not much,"_ June replied. _"They're building another Moody Gardens pyramid; I hear it's gonna be about space."_

"_Cool!"_

"_What about you, Mr. New Yorker,"_ she smirked._ "What about your life? You don't seem as miserable as you did when you first moved there."_

Elijah grinned. _"Let's just say that I had some good friends to help me out."_

...

The drive into Galveston was good. The van's closed windows couldn't keep out the sea breeze that came from the nearby ocean, and the sky was turning purple from the sunset. Aunt Martha had started playing Glenn Campbell's _Galveston_ song on the stereo [probably because she was excited they were visiting], and Elijah found it appropriate as they drove through the streets, looking at the familiar buildings.

"It's so awesome to be back," Elijah said, looking out the window at seagulls flying overhead. "I missed this place!"

"We missed you too," his aunt said from the front seat, glad that the kids in the back were too distracted by Gilly to be yelling.. "How're you liking New York so far?"

"_It's… interesting,_" he replied out loud, also signing the question and answer for June, who sat in the seat next to him. _"New York City's huge, and Weisman's cool. It's already freezing up there, and it snowed a little last week."_

_ "That's crazy,"_ his best friend signed. _"It's a good thing you're back in some nice 74 degree weather!" _

_ "I'm glad for it too!"_

"Is that old candy confectionery still around here," Uncle Jeffrey asked his sister. "I remember they used to do taffy pullings every day, and the whole smell of the place made my mouth water."

"Yeah, it's still here," she replied. "We'll definitely stop there at some point this week."

_"So how many friends have you replaced us with,"_ June asked jokingly.

Elijah managed to smile, though he secretly felt bad that he couldn't tell her the full truth. _"There's a few guys I've gotten to know,"_ he replied, carefully choosing the words he signed. _"They live in New York City. One of them's even learned sign language to communicate with me."_

_ "Awesome! What's his name?"_

_ "Bro- Brodie,"_ he fingerspelled, figuring it was a more believable name than Brooklyn. _"He has two brothers, Lex and… Borris."_

_ "Borris,"_ she repeated. _"That sounds fake."_

_ "That's what I said when I met him,"_ Elijah replied, hoping she didn't question it much. _"They're pretty cool guys. There's also this girl at my school named Amanda. She's got a mean right hook."_

_ "She __**hit**__ you?!"_

_ "No, but she apparently punched someone who was making fun of me."_ He smiled. _"I remember you doing the same years ago."  
_June smiled too. _"I just pushed someone who was pushing you. You would've done the same."_

"What're you two talking about back there," Aunt Martha asked from the front seat.

Elijah simply smiled. _"Just catching up with my best friend,"_ he said and signed.

...

The next few days were awesome.

Elijah, Uncle Jeffrey, Aunt Martha, June, and all of Elijah's family and friends were able to do fun stuff while they waited for Thanksgiving Day. They went into the historic downtown district for a day, just looking around and spending time together. They stopped by that old candy place Jeffrey had mentioned, and they each got their own small bag of candy.

Another day, they went to the beach. It wasn't very crowded, given the time of year, but it was still warm enough to swim in, and Elijah found that he had missed the murky and dirty water more than he realized. It was fun, playing with his old friends and his family, smelling the sea breeze and building sand castles, like he used to.

Even his aunt's house was still the same; two stories tall and large enough to hold her family, it was located not too far from the beach, but far enough away that beach goers didn't try to park in front of their house. Elijah and his uncle were staying in a hotel, since she didn't have any room, but went over to her house for breakfast each day. It was a happy time on the island, and Elijah hoped it would never end.

But it couldn't last forever. At some point, his Uncle Jeffrey asked him a question, and Aunt Martha drove them to Elijah's old house, which was still for sale. The grass in the front lawn was overgrown, and the windows were dark. Even without going in, the deaf teen knew the entire layout of the house; he could almost imagine what it looked like back when he still lived there. He could tell that down the hall was his parent's room, and he did his best not to cry. Uncle Jeffrey did cry, hugging his sister as they stood on the sidewalk outside.

And there was another visit Elijah knew he had to make. He had asked June which day would be best, and the Wednesday afternoon before Thanksgiving, he went with her to the hospital, going up to the fourth floor. The nurses at the station said hi to June and asked who her friend was. She introduced them to Elijah and asked if there was any change. No change, but he was awake. They walked down the hall, stopping outside a door.

_"Are you okay,"_ she asked him.

_"I… Yeah,"_ he replied. _"I wanna see him. How long can we stay?"_

_"No more than five minutes; he needs his rest. We can still stay until visiting hours end at nine; my mom'll show up then to spend the night with him."_ She then opened the door, leading him into the room.

June's brother Jerry lay in the hospital bed, the usual tubes and machines hooked up to his arm. His head was bald, probably from the chemotherapy, and Elijah was shocked to see how much the young adult had changed. He looked a lot older than someone who should be in college. Jerry noticed them as they approached the bed, and he gave them a weak smile when he saw who it was.

"The Prodigal Friend returns," he said, his voice a few decibels above a whisper. June went to stand in a place that she could read both of their lips, not wanting Elijah to have to sign and talk while visiting Jerry.

"Hey, Jerry," Elijah said, giving his friend a small wave. "How're you doing?"

"The usual," he sighed. "Not going anywhere anytime soon. How's New York?"

"It's great. A lot colder, and the people up there are… interesting."

"Did you bring me an Empire State Building snow globe," he asked, cracking a small smile.

"I can if you want."

"Don't stress yourself, Elijah." He sighed. "I'll see it in person someday…"

The deaf teen and June exchanged worried looks. Jerry had been sick for over a year, and while he wasn't getting worse, he wasn't getting better. Still, they refused to give up hope that he would get better.

"I'm glad you came to visit me," Jerry continued. "I rarely see anyone outside of the family anymore."

"No problem," Elijah replied. "Did you know that we're all coming here for Thanksgiving dinner tomorrow?"

"Yeah. Make sure my mom doesn't burn the rolls."

"I will."

A nurse poked her head in. "Time for you to get some rest," she told Jerry.

"Thanks," Elijah said, leaving the room with June. They stood outside as the nurse gave Jerry his medicine, watching the young adult once again go through the motions. The teen looked at his friend, who watched the scene with a tired expression.

_"Should we be going,"_ he asked her.

She turned to him, almost with a dazed look. _"... Yeah,"_ she eventually signed back. _"Let's go."_

They made their way out of the hospital, walking down the street towards the beach, both of them silent. Elijah couldn't help but feel bad; he knew Jerry growing up, and while he had seen him before moving to New York, he hadn't anticipated his friend to look that weak. He could only imagine what it was like for June.

Eventually, they reached that candy place his Uncle liked, and they went in. It had an old fashioned soda fountain, which was an old timey word for 'milkshake maker,' so they each got a small one, sitting at a table nearby. For a few minutes, they drank their frozen drinks in silence, watching the servers and other guests.

_"Remember when he was first diagnosed,"_ June asked him.

Elijah finished his sip, tentatively signing _"Yes."_

_ "We thought he was just feeling under the weather. But then it didn't go away…"_ She sighed. _"But I didn't want to talk to you about him now."_

He frowned. _"What? You… wanted to talk to me? About what?"_

She hesitated before signing, _"You're lying to me."_

Elijah froze at that statement, unable to hide his surprise, but she continued. _"I don't see why you have to make up friends for me to think that you're happy up North; if you're not happy, I'm fine with that. Just… please don't lie to me."_

_"I'm not lying to you -"_

_ "Yes, you are. I can tell. Your eyes…" _June looked at him, her eyes teary. _"You used to tell me everything; how you felt, what was going on in your life… Now you're just… quiet."_

_ "I'm not trying to be,"_ he protested, frowning so she could tell he was hurt. _"I really do have friends in New York."_

_ "Like Amanda?"_

_ "What? She's just a- Are you jealous of her."_

_"Of course not,"_ she replied, frowning at him now. _"But I can tell she's real. If you thought I'd be jealous or think that you've replaced me -"_

_"Hey,"_ he interrupted. _"I can never replace you. We've been best friends since ASL 101; we always will be. It's just the distance between us right now… it's always hard when friends don't live near each other any more."_

_ "But you're still hiding something. Are… you going deaf? Permanently?"_

_ "No."_

_ "Are you in some sort of trouble?"_

_ "Of course not?"_

_"Then what is it? Why can't you tell me?"_

"I CAN'T -" He stopped, realizing he had said it out loud instead of signed it. Fortunately, no one seemed to notice, and he sighed, trying to calm down. _"I… want to tell you everything. But I __**can't.**__ I'm sorry."_

June stared at him for a few moments, not signing anything as their milkshakes lay untouched. Eventually, she looked down, a tear on rolling down her face. Then, when she looked back up at him, she signed three words that changed his world forever. _"I love you."_

The volume in the room seemed to drop to nonexistent levels, and Elijah wondered for a second if he had actually gone deaf. Then, when his mind caught up with him, his hand jumped, knocking the glass off the table, the contents splattering on the floor. He looked at June with a shocked expression, oblivious to everything else.

_"At… At first,"_ she continued, starting to cry a little, _"I wasn't entirely sure, since we've been best friends and all that. But... ever since you left, I've been thinking about it. And I just… I know you probably don't feel that way about me, but I had to tell you."_

Elijah was stunned; he had no idea where this revelation was coming from, but all he could do was sit there, silent. He wasn't sure what he was supposed to say or even do. Comfort her? Stay quiet? Say that he loved her back? _Did_ he love her back? However, she stood up before he could do anything.

_"I'm going back to the hospital; my mom should be there soon."_ She wiped her eyes. _"I'm sorry for telling you this during your vacation, but… I just couldn't keep it to myself any longer."_ And with that, she made her way towards the exit and left.

The deaf teen continued to sit there, her half-finished milkshake in front of him, and his on the ground. He felt like he had been sucker-punched in the face, but nothing hurt; he just felt numb. After a few moments, he looked around, checking to see if anything had changed. Nothing had; everyone was going about their lives, and the world still moved around him.

"... What just happened," he muttered to himself.

###

**Mason POV:**

"We have news, Thirteen," the voice in the phone said.

"Spill it."

"Thailog has made his move; there wan an attack on a robotics company in Vermont last night. Reports talk about a winged monster with weapons."

"Did they take anything?"

"Mainly online plans and programs."

"Why is this our concern? He is also a member."

"The Council is aware, but they want to know what he's planning."

"So where do I come in," Mason asked.

"You've been given a temporary reassignment. Pay attention, as these details will not be repeated.."

* * *

**Wow! A lot of information to take in! Elijah's two homes are clashing in more ways than one, and Thailog's up to something!**

**Feel free to follow or favorite this story to be updated on new chapters, and feel free to leave a review on this chapter or others if you want. ****And, as usual, have a safe and happy week/weekend!**

**Quick PSA: _PLEASE __BE CAREFUL AND SAFE WHEN YOU GO OUTSIDE DURING A GLOBAL PANDEMIC!_ Seriously, you guys are awesome, and while being sick gives you more time to read fanfiction, it's not good for you or your loved ones. Keep yourselves and everyone else outside safe. Thank you.**

**-aggiefrogger**


	16. Chapter 16

**Hey everyone!**

**First off, BIG apology for the super long, two-month hiatus. First, between the end of school, some writer's block, and a family vacation, this took me longer than I would have liked to get this next chapter out. I apologize for the long wait, and will try my best to make sure that long times between chapters again. **

* * *

**Christmas**

Besides the major stuff happening in Elijah's life, a lot happened to the Manhattan Clan in the month of November.

Fang had managed to break out of the Labyrinth prison after the Halloween fiasco, disappearing without a trace. He appeared to have had outside help, though there were no leads as to who helped him escape, meaning that he could strike at any moment. Despite Hudson and Lexington still being in Europe, and still needing to guard the city, Goliath had assigned Brooklyn and Bronx to guarding the Robbins residence [there was no way Fang would know who Amanda was or where she lived, so she was in the clear]. Brooklyn was there from sunset to midnight, and the garg-dog would stand watch until sunrise; they would switch shifts each day. Angela and Broadway sometimes visited, but they mainly stayed with Goliath in New York City, where he and Xanatos' steel clan patrolled the city for crime.

Hudson and Lex had a grand adventure in the U.K., teaming up with the London Clan of gargoyles to help Macbeth guard a magic rock that was being returned to Scotland. They had opted to stay abroad through Christmas, and may even stay for New Years. Uncle Jeffrey had offered to go visit them for Christmas, but with Fang being gone, no one was keen to leave the house unattended for a long period of time. Especially since Mason, the new limo driver, had some sort of family emergency after Thanksgiving and had to go home.

Now, with it being December, Elijah and his friends were starting to prepare for Christmas. Amanda, who visited a few times a week, helped him and Brooklyn put up the Christmas decorations around the house. She couldn't stay super late, given her curfew, but she managed to get a few hours after school where she and Elijah would hang out, work on homework, and work on sign language [she had asked him if he could teach her a few signs, and he had agreed]. However, the whole time she was there, he couldn't help but think of another friend back in Galveston, if they were still even friends.

Elijah told his two friends about everything during his Thanksgiving trip, save for his conversation with June. _That_ he only told Brooklyn in confidence. He was still new friends with Amanda, and he wasn't sure if he could talk about his lifelong friend having a crush on him with anyone outside of Brooklyn. The gargoyle was a good listener, and someone [relatively] close to his age mentally, so he figured that he might be able to offer some sage advice. Apparently, he had none to give

_ "Wow,"_ he had signed, wings folded and a thoughtful expression on his face. _"That's… that must've put a damper on the rest of the trip." _

_"It did,"_ Elijah had agreed, feet propped up on the coffee table. _"We've been friends for years, ever since we both started learning ASL, and…"_ He sighed. _"I wasn't expecting this." _

_ "Well… this is a good thing, right?" _

_ "How?" _

_"She __**likes**__ you,"_ Brooklyn said, a grin on his face. _"That's awesome, dude!" _

_"She didn't say she liked me, she said she loved me,"_ the teen protested. _"That's entirely different from liking someone." _

_ "If she said she loves you, maybe she wants to marry you."  
"What the hell?!" _

_ "Hey, I call it as I see it,"_ the gargoyle said from his chair. _"Humans marry someone they love, right?" _

_ "Yes, but it's usually a mutual feeling between the two!" _

_ "So you don't love her?" _

_ "I don't-"_ Elijah sighed, trying to think of what to say. _"I don't know. I know I __**like**__ her, a lot, as a friend and all that, but how do I know if it's… the real deal?" _

_ "You're asking the wrong gargoyle,"_ Brooklyn said, a small frown on his face. _"Angela and Broadway are probably your better bet. Or maybe your uncle" _

And that was it. They hadn't discussed what had happened during Thanksgiving after that, since there was nothing left to say. And while talking to Uncle Jeffrey might be a wise decision, he was often busy with whatever novel he was working on, and his uncle hadn't known June outside of Thanksgiving break. So Elijah pretended that nothing had happened, focusing on the upcoming holiday with avid interest.

Growing up on the Texas coast his whole life, Elijah had never had a white Christmas, and not even snow. He knew it existed, of course, seeing it on TV and movies, but the first snow of the year still caught him by surprise. The following night, he, Amanda and Brooklyn went out into the backyard, the latter two deciding to teach him about snow time fun. Turns out, the gargoyle was an expert at snowball fights, climbing up the side of the house before gliding down, assaulting his friends with snowballs. By the time Jeffrey called them in, all were tired and wet, but smiling as well.

Not everything was happy, though. This was Elijah's first Christmas without his parents. It was hard to think about going half a year without them, and while the holidays brought their usual cheeriness, it also brought sadness for him. His parents both loved Christmas, and their small family had many traditions they celebrated each year; watching Christmas movies together, decorating the tree, hot cocoa. They did all that stuff here in New York, but it wasn't the same. Different house. Different people. However, he knew that his parents would want him to move on and enjoy the season, so he tried his best to keep himself cheery, and he found an opportunity to do so when he and his uncle received an invitation to the Xanatos Christmas party at the Eyrie building.

This was exciting; for so long, Elijah had always wanted to visit the skyscraper that was home to the gargoyle's castle and the badass billionaire that used to be their sworn enemy. Brooklyn had told him stories about how Xanatos used to be arch-enemies with Goliath, using his intellect and money to keep the clan on its toes. Also, hearing stories about the castle itself was intriguing, so the teen was excited to finally get to see it.

###

"Though I don't see why I have to wear this," Elijah said on Christmas Eve, wearing dress pants, a button-down collared shirt, and a sweater. "I look like you."

"I choose to take that as a compliment," Uncle Jeffrey said. "And it's important to always look presentable. First impressions matter more than most people think."

"It's just going to be the Xanatos' and the gargoyles," the teen said. "They know me."

"Not Mr. and Mrs. Xanatos. And you're not getting out of this."

"Fine," Elijah grumbled, pulling at the collar of his shirt. At least he finally got to see a tenth century castle and hang out with his gargoyle friends.

Owen came to pick them up shortly before sunset [since Mason was still with his family]. After hearing about Owen, Xanatos' assistant who also happened to be a magical fairy name Puck, from Brooklyn, Elijah had expected someone with a personality. Apparently, he was the same trickster dude from some famous Shakespeare play, but you wouldn't know that upon meeting him. His crip suit, passive expression, and monotone voice made him both unimpressed and unsurprised by anything. Elijah wondered if Brooklyn had been messing with him, because surely this boring businessman couldn't be the famous trickster from Avalon.

"It is nice to finally meet you, Elijah," Owen said, driving them towards the city. "Brooklyn has said many good things about you, and I know that Mr. Xanatos is anxious to meet you."

"Oh… thank you," Elijah said, hoping he wasn't acting too awkward. "I've heard a lot about Mr. Xanatos too… Good things, of course."

"I'm sure he will appreciate the compliment," he replied, and they lapsed into silence after that, making their way into New York City.

Elijah had been to New York City; his class had a field trip to a museum earlier that year, so he was able to see what the city looked like. Still, he couldn't help but look out the window as they made their way through the crowded streets, amazed by the sheer number of people and lights.

When they reached Xanatos' building, he couldn't help but look up at the tower of glass and steel in front of him. It was so tall, he couldn't even see the top of the building, since the clouds were blocking it from view.

"I take that it must be very tall for you to be so quiet," his uncle commented, climbing out of the car with Gilly as Owen helped Elijah carry the presents they had brought for the Xanatos family and the gargoyle clan.

"Yeah… Good thing I'm not scared of heights."

"This way, please," Owen said, leading them through the lobby to one of the elevators, using a special key that would take them to the top floor. Elijah had no idea what to expect when he reached the top floor; on one hand, Xanatos Enterprises was supposed to be the leader in technological advances, and was expecting something modern. However, the castle, according to Brooklyn, was still preserved as it had been in the 10th century. When the elevator doors opened, he forgot all that as he gaped at the room in front of him.

In most movies depicting a castle, there was something that one would probably called a great hall. Huge, with high ceilings and plenty of lights to keep it lit, it was where the king would have a feast with his court, and a roaring fireplace warmed the room. This place was no exception, with its stone walls and open design; old tapestries hung on some of the walls, and the beams on the ceiling looked like they were still made of wood [but newer, since the old one probably rotted away centuries ago]. However, instead of lanterns, electric lights lit the room, and the space had been decorated for Christmas. A large Christmas tree, the biggest Elijah had ever seen in person, was standing off to the side, decorated with fancy ornaments and strings of garlands. More decorations made the place seem more festive, along with the modest pile of presents underneath the tree, which was guarded by a sleeping Bronx.

"Elijah!" He turned to notice Broadway and Angela walking towards them, both smiling. "You finally made it," the big gargoyle said. "Let me help you with those."

"Thanks," Elijah said absentmindedly, still in awe of the room around him. "This place is huge…"

"Why thank you," a new voice said, and walking in from another hallway was the one and only David Xanatos.

Elijah had seen him on the news before, but something about the man's presence was hard to describe. He just seemed… _cool._ A tux, ponytail tied back, and impeccable facial hair, it was no wonder he was such a popular guy. The woman on his arm was also cool, with flaming red hair and a star tattoo around her eye, and a green dress trimmed with white.

"You must be Jeffrey's nephew," Xanatos said, walking forward to shake his hand. "David Xanatos, and this lovely woman is my wife, Fox."

"Nice to meet you," she said, shaking his hand as well.

"N-Nice to meet you both," the teen said, trying to keep his cool. "Thank you for inviting us."

"No trouble at all," Xanatos said. "Mr. Robbins. Nice to see you again."

"Pleasure's all mine, Mr. Xanatos," he replied.

"Elijah," Brooklyn said, walking into the room with Goliath. "You finally made it!"

"Yeah," the teen agreed, still looking around the room with awe. "This place is amazing."

"Thanks. About time you finally came to visit."

"It is nice to meet you again, Elijah," Goliath said. "No signs of Fang?"

"Not since Halloween."

"Hopefully he is not planning anything. Derek told us earlier today that a few residents from the Labyrinth have gone missing, including one of Fang's former cell guards."

"He better not be planning on coming back," Uncle Jeffrey said, his hand tightening on his cane.

"I assure you he won't," Xanatos said. "I've been meaning to talk to you for a while -"

_You guys go all out for Christmas,_ Elijah signed, turning to Brooklyn. _It's like that fancy hotel from __**Home Alone Two.**_

_What can we say,_ Brooklyn replied, clearly bragging as he signed with wide gestures. _We missed about a thousand years worth Christmases, so we see it as making up all the years we missed._

_Think we're being rude by signing in front of them?_ They turned to the rest of the group; Jeffrey and Mr. Xanatos had wandered off some distance, discussing something with Goliath, and Broadway and Angela had returned to the Christmas tree, continuing to decorate it. Only Fox Xanatos was nearby, seeming undisturbed by their signing.

"I like that movie," Fox said, smiling at their surprised expressions. "I better go check on Alex." She left the group, heading for another part of the castle.

"So… she knows sign language," Elijah said, flushing with embarrassment. "And likes _Home Alone._"

"Fox is always full of surprises," Xanatos commented, leading Goliath and Uncle Jeffrey further into the grand hall.

"I swear, I always learn something new about her," Brooklyn muttered.

"So this is where you live," the teen said. "I've never been in a castle before."

"Most people haven't," the gargoyle quipped. "I'll show you around. Sorry about all the tinsel; Broadway and Angela went a little overboard with the decorations."

They spent the next half hour wandering around the castle. Elijah's friend showed him the various rooms, pointing out certain weapons and tapestries that hung on the walls. It was impressive; the place had the air of being old, yet the modern lighting clashed with it. Some of the rooms had been renovated to look modern, such as the kitchen, but most were kept in their original state, though they had been restored.

The scariest part was going on top of the castle. There was a courtyard in the middle of the castle, and the towers around it offered a brilliant view of the city and surrounding area. From there, the teen could see everything: the Empire State Building, Statue of Liberty, and, if he looked the right way, he could almost see the distant town of Weisman. Elijah also noticed that the towers had defense mechanisms, probably to protect it from an aerial attack.

"Does that happen often," he asked Brooklyn.

"Too many times," he replied in a tired voice.

Eventually, they were summoned by Owen for dinner, and returned to the grand hall, which now had a table and spread in the middle of it. A new guest, the detective Elisa Maza, had shown up during their tour, and shook Elijah's hand. The teen had heard about her, of course, and he had to admit that she was probably just as badass as Xanatos. Fox now held a baby, who she said was her son Alex. The meal was fantastic; turkey and ham, mashed potatoes, green beans, and a whole bunch of other fancy food that seemed. During the time, Elijah made polite talk with the Xanatoses, and listened to Broadway and Angela tell him about some of their adventures in the city while Bronx and Gilly gnawed at dog bones nearby.

After dinner, it was time for presents. Technically, presents were supposed to wait for tomorrow, but since everyone had gotten each other gifts, and since everyone in the room usually stayed up at night, they figured Santa wouldn't mind. The Xanatoses loved the gift Jeffrey Robbins had given to them, which appeared to be some old manuscript that the author had found. Elijah was fortunate that his uncle had included him in the gift, since he had no idea what the couple would have liked. Then it was time for the gargoyles' presents.

Elijah had chosen their gifts, with some help from his uncle. For Broadway, he got him a book with all of Shakespeare's plays and works in it, since the aqua gargoyle was known to be an avid fan. The gargoyle started to flip through the pages with great interest as Elijah gave Angela her gift, which was a box of seashells he had gotten in Galveston. She seemed to like them, picking up a spiky one, examining it with an interested eye. The Robbins had also brought gifts for Lex and Hudson [a computer game and set of Sherlock Holmes books, respectively], and for Bronx, they gave him a soccerball [the garg-dog appeared to be a fan of chewing them]. Goliath had insisted that he did not want a gift, but he accepted a Christmas card from Uncle Jeffrey. Having not expected Elisa to be there, they didn't have a gift for her, but she assured the two that it was fine, and that meeting them would be sufficient.

"Here you go," Elijah said, giving his gift to Brooklyn. "Picked it up in Galveston."

The gargoyle unwrapped the gift, surprised when he saw what it was. "Elijah, dude, this is..."

"I hope you like it," the teen said, a little nervous. "I figured you could cut holes in the back for your wings… Seeing it now, it's kind of stupid. If you don't like it -"

"I like it," he said, holding up the large t-shirt and smiling at him. It had the words 'If you can read this say hello' completely in fingerspelling hands. "About time I had something nice to wear!"

"Good," the teen said, relieved. "I was gonna get you an ASL dictionary, but you said you already had one, and I figured you'd like this."

"I really like it," his friend said, smirking as he read the hands on the shirt. "Makes my gift look like crap, though." He set aside the shirt, handing Elijah a small box. Opening it, the teen saw that it appeared to be a puzzle depicting several mystery novel covers. All of his favorite authors and books were on there, in their first edition cover glory.

"I know it's a puzzle," Brooklyn said apologetically. "Not sure if you like that kind of activity, but -"

"It's awesome," the deaf teen said, a smile crossing his face. "Seriously, it's amazing. Where'd you get this?"

"I had some help," the gargoyle said, giving Elisa a grateful smile. "They've got puzzles like this for all types of book genres; fantasy, historical… all of them interesting."

"I can't wait to put this together!"

"Not a bad Christmas, I should say," Uncle Jeffrey said, feeling the gift Mr. and Mrs. Xanatos had given him, which appeared to be an old book written in Braille.

And, despite having his initial reservations, Elijah realized that his uncle was right. Even though his parents weren't there in person, Christmas had not lost its spirit of giving, happiness, and most importantly, family. And looking around, the teen couldn't help but feel at home.

* * *

**I know this chapter's not really plot-advancing, but the next one should be very interesting. The next one will take place after New Years, meaning the rest of the story will take place in 1997, which, for those that read the comics, has some interesting events go down, especially featuring a particular group of semi-reformed villains.**

**Feel free to follow or favorite this story to be updated on new chapters, and feel free to leave a review on this chapter or others if you want. ****And, as usual, have a safe and happy week/weekend!**

**Quick PSA: _PLEASE __BE CAREFUL AND SAFE WHEN YOU GO OUTSIDE!_ Seriously, you guys are awesome, and while being stuck at home gives you more time to read fanfiction, it's not good for you or your loved ones. Keep yourselves and everyone else outside safe. Thank you.**

**-aggiefrogger**


	17. Chapter 17

**Hello everyone!**

**So I was planning on posting this last Friday, and did, but decided to wait another week and make some rewrites. Fortunately, not many people had read it by the time I took it down, and for those that had read it and for those that couldn't find the new chapter after I deleted it, I apologize for the confusion. **

**Here is chapter 17, officially, in which many surprising and somewhat startling things are revealed.**

**Enjoy.**

* * *

**January 10th, 1997:**

**Elijah POV**

"So what was that song called," Goliath asked after the teen finished playing.

"_Mona Lisas and Mad Hatters,"_ Elijah replied, getting up from the piano bench. The Xanatos' rarely used their grand piano, but had given the teen permission to play it whenever he came to visit. "Not one of Elton John's well known songs, but I like it."

"You're like a reverse Stevie Wonder," Brooklyn joked. "Play your cards right, you could be famous."

"We should get going; Hudson and Lex come back tonight, and you still have patrol before the party," Goliath said. "Broadway and Angela are waiting at the tower."

"Fine," the younger gargoyle said. "But I'm still wearing this." He indicated to the custom shirt he had received for Christmas. "Gotta let NYC know I'm deaf friendly!"

_I'm sure whoever you meet will be thrilled to know the flying creature stopping crimes knows ASL, _the teen joked. _And try not to die; you're still supposed to be my wingman._

_Scaring girls into your waiting arms,_ Brooklyn signed back, grinning and heading towards the roof. "See you in a couple hours!"

"Bye. What about you, Goliath? You're not going with them?"

"I will be patrolling elsewhere," the gargoyle said, following him towards the main. "Will your uncle be joining us?"

"I don't think so. He's been working on some new book for a while, so he's started going to bed earlier," Elijah said. "It must be an important one; he won't even tell me what it's about."

"Then I should be going. See you later, Elijah."

"Yeah." The gargoyle went in another direction as the teen made his way to one of the living rooms.

Hudson and Lex had spent the last few months in British Isles helping Macbeth, getting to know the London clan and seeing their old home in Scotland. The Manhattan gargoyles had decided to throw them a return party, and they had decided to throw them a welcome home party. Brooklyn, Broadway and Angela had a patrol from sunset until ten, but afterwards, it was party time.

Mason [who had returned a few days before New Years with the news that his relative had recovered from whatever illness they had] had dropped him off in front of the Eyrie building half a hour after the sun set, and Elijah took the elevator up to the top floor. He had visited the castle a couple of times after Christmas, but it was still exciting, watching the dial slowly tick towards the top floor.

Elijah wasn't usually the kind of person who threw surprise parties for friends, but it had been a while since he had seen Hudson and Lex, and he figured they might appreciate the gesture. It didn't take long to set up the streamers and homemade 'Welcome Back' sign, and before he knew it, the teen was watching _The Fresh Prince of Bel Air_, occasionally looking at the clock on the wall in front of him, counting down the time until the gargoyles were due to arrive. Bronx, who had been sleeping in the corner when he walked in, got bored after a while and wandered off, presumably to find a soccer ball to chew.

"Elijah?"

The teen started, not realizing he had dozed off. He turned around, blinking the sleep from his eyes and seeing Eliza Maza standing in the doorway.

"Oh… hi Ms. Maza," he said, yawning a little. "You here for the party?"

"Yes," she said. "Though it will probably be postponed; members of the Pack were just spotted in Times Square, and everyone left to go after them a while ago. Goliath mentioned you were here, so I thought I'd look for you."

"What?" Elijah looked over at the clock, seeing it was around 10:45. "Shoot! Don't tell me I missed Hudson and Lex coming home!"

"Don't worry," she assured him. "They had only just gotten back with Coldstone and Coldfire when they got the call."

"Coldstone and Coldfire? Who're they?"

"Didn't Brooklyn tell you about -" Eliza broke off, as if remembering something she wasn't supposed to say. Her face took on a serious expression. "I think we need to have a talk."

"About what," the teen asked, noting her change in demeanor. "If it's about that Gargoyle Task Force I overheard Goliath talking about, I'll sign whatever confidentiality form you need me to sign. My uncle will too; I think he and Mr. Xanatos were talking about it during the Christmas party."

"It's not that," she said, sitting down on the couch next to him. "It's about Brooklyn…"

"What? Did he get hurt during his patrol or something?"

"No! He's fine, I saw him earlier... It's just that -"

"There you two are," a new voice said, and the two looked up to find Owen standing in the doorway. "I just wanted to inform you both that the gargoyles have returned from Times Square."

"All of them," Elijah asked.

The man gave him an expressionless look. "If you are inferring to Hudson and Lexington, then yes. Everyone made it back safely, and have convened in the great hall."

"Screw waiting for them in here," the teen said, standing up and heading for the door, stopping to grab his late Christmas gift for Hudson; it was one a jar of multi-colored sand he had bought in Galveston [he had gotten a computer game for Lex]. "I'm gonna say hi to them now! I can't let them have a reunion without me!"

"Elijah," Eliza called after him. "I really need to talk to you about -"

But the deaf teen was already out of earshot, walking briskly towards the great hall. Now things were going to get radical; Lex and Hudson were back, probably with a hundred stories to tell about their time abroad. Brooklyn could tell him about these Coldstone and Coldfire individuals, and they could all have a party. Xanatos had even offered to order pizza and other food for them once everyone was back at the castle. It looked like that time was now.

"Hudson! Lex!" Elijah walked into the great hall, seeing the group of gargoyles standing near the doorway that led to the outdoor courtyard. "You're finally back! How was-"

The question faltered as he noticed the group, his brisk walk slowing down before he eventually came to a stop.

Besides the original clan he had met months ago, there were several new individuals standing with them. The two most notable were about Goliath's height, made of gold and silver metal respectively, and looked like the steel clan robots, except these looked like unique gargoyles, not copies of Goliath. The silver one was male, and parts of him were actually flesh, as if he were a cyborg, but the other one, which was female, was made completely out of metal. Instantly, Elijah could tell these must be Coldstone and Coldfire, and was about to say hello when he noticed the sub-group of four gargoyles standing next to them.

The main gargoyle looked like Brooklyn, but it couldn't be him; he couldn't have changed that much since he last saw him yesterday. This gargoyle was a few inches taller, standing up straighter, and looked rugged with the scars that crisscrossed his arms, face and legs. However, it was really the eye patch over his left eye that was unsettling; it made him look… _meaner,_ in a way, and his current expression matched the one that Goliath often wore. The crimson gargoyle also wore some light armor now, and carried several weapons with him; two swords, a futuristic-looking gun, and something else the teen could not identify. Yeah, it definitely wasn't Broooklyn, but the resemblance was kind of freaky.

Another one of the gargoyles was female, and was slightly shorter than Brooklyn. She had pale blue skin, black hair, a small beak, and a pair of horns that were slightly curved. She wore some sort of yellow dress, and had two swords… no, _katanas,_ hanging on her side. In her arms was some sort of rock the size of a football, and she held it as if it were precious cargo. He also noticed that she had three fingers instead of four, and two toes instead of three. Her eyes scanned the room, surveying everyone and everything with a fierce intensity.

There was also another gargoyle-dog that stood in front of the Brooklyn look-alike. The dog-like gargoyle was about the same size as Bronx, but it had jade green skin with a brown lion-like mane and a long tufted tail. A gold collar was on his neck, and it stared around the room, growling a little as he observed its inhabitants.

The final gargoyle was shorter than the two of them, maybe closer to Lex's height [if Lex wasn't always hunched over], and wore a t-shirt with the letters "USN" on it, shorts, and a small sword hung from his belt. At first glance, Elijah thought that he was a small adult, like Lex, and had the same light blue skin and black hair as the female gargoyle (maybe they were related), but physically looked more like-

"Elijah," the Brooklyn look-alike yelled, a grin crossing his face as he ran forward and gave the surprised teen a hug. "Oh my gosh, it's really you! I never thought I'd see my best friend again!"

"Wh-What," the deaf teen asked, taking a step back and looking at the gargoyle, confused. "Who are you?"

The red gargoyle's smile faded, looking a little hurt. "Elijah… it's me… Brooklyn. I've been gone for-" His face darkened, and he looked towards the others. "Oh no… did somebody tell..."

"Elijah," Eliza called, running into the room behind him. "I need to… Oh no."

"What's going on," the teen demanded, still holding the jar in his hand. "If you're Brooklyn, why're you dressed up like it's Halloween? Who are they? Did they come here with Hudson and Lex?"

The clan of gargoyles never looked so awkward before then, all looking everywhere but at him; even Elisa wasn't making eye contact. For some reason, their silence only made him angrier, and he snapped, "What's the big secret? Just because my hearing's lousy doesn't mean I can't be told anything important!"

"Elijah," Eliza started to say, before the Brooklyn-like gargoyle interrupted.

"Elijah… I've been gone for 40 years. I just came back, apparently 40 seconds after I left."

Elijah stared at him in shock, searching for some sort of sign that he was possibly joking. Because he _had_ to be joking; it wasn't possible for him to suddenly age 40 years in 40 seconds. "That's impossible," he finally said. "If this is some kind of prank -"

"It was the Phoenix Gate," Angela told him, just as somber and serious as everyone else. "It… just appeared in front of us during our patrol earlier this evening. It turned into a fiery bird and… took Brooklyn. He reappeared forty seconds later with..." She simply turned towards the new trio of gargoyles that stood next to Brooklyn, unable to finish her thought.

"Oh, yeah," the crimson gargoyle said, turning towards the new gargoyles. "This is my mate, Katana of the Ishimura clan." He pointed to the green dog-like gargoyle. "This is Fu-Dog, and this," he added, putting a hand on the young gargoyle's shoulder, "is my son Nashville."

"Hello," the short blue gargoyle said; his voice seemed young, meaning he was younger than he had originally thought.

"Is that a -" Goliath asked, pointing at the object in Katana's arms.

"Egwardo," the costumed Brooklyn answered. "He's due to hatch in a few months."

_What is going on,_ the deaf teen wondered, staring at the new group as his mind tried to process what was happening. Brooklyn, his first friend from the clan… was now the equivalent of a middle-aged adult, married with a kid, and hadn't seen him or any of the Manhattan Clan in about forty years. He felt sick, for some reason, and wondered why he felt lightheaded all of a sudden. But, he remembered Goliath saying he got rid of the Phoenix Gate… and he saw Brooklyn only yesterday… so was this the real Brooklyn?

"Wait," Elijah said, hands shaking a little, "so… you mean to tell me you've been gone for forty years? I saw you last night; you were fine and normal and-" He looked towards Goliath. "How do we know this isn't some sort of trick? A spell from Demona? Another clone?"

"It's not a trick," Nashville said angrily. "My father wouldn't lie to you!"

"Then prove it," Elijah challenged, turning towards the imposter. "Prove you're Brooklyn!"

The small gargoyle made to move forward, but his father held him back. The Brooklyn impostor sighed, as if regretting what he was about to do. He stepped forward, taking something from a pouch on his side, slowly holding it out for him to see. The teen looked at it, about to protest that some old rag wouldn't prove anything when he recognized the symbol on the fabric.

A sign language letter, specifically the letter 'N.'

Suddenly, the rag wasn't a rag. It was a piece of a t-shirt he had given to his best friend a few weeks ago. It was part of the same shirt Brooklyn was wearing it when he went out on patrol earlier that night.

"No," Elijah muttered. "That's…"

"Elijah," the Brooklyn impostor said, bringing his attention back to the one-eyed gargoyle. Then, the creature raised his hands and signed, _It's me, Brooklyn,_ using the special name sign that Elijah had come up with for him and only him, unique to the gargoyle. _I'm sorry._

The jar of sand fell and shattered on the ground, but he paid no attention to it. Now, all previous thoughts about the impostor were gone as he realized…

_It's Brooklyn,_ he thought, looking at the older gargoyle in shock, taking in his strange appearance in a different light. _But that means-_ He looked over at Nashville, and realized how similar he looked to Brooklyn, and that he had called him his...

"I… I know this is a big shock," Brooklyn was saying, looking apologetic. "It is for everyone, I'm sure. But I'm still the same -"

"No," Elijah managed to say, hands still shaking as he felt blood, probably from a glass shard, trickle down his ankle. "This… You can't be… It's a trick," he finally blurted out. "It's a trick, making me believe that you somehow -"

"It's not a trick," Nashville said.

"Shut up," the teen snapped. "Of course you would say that!"

"Elijah," Hudson spoke up, stepping forward with a somber expression. "I think ye need te calm down so we can -"

"_I _need to calm down," Elijah asked, his voice slightly louder than it should have been. "How are you all not freaking out?! This is obviously some kind of magical deception or some shit, because the whole idea is too absurd to even consider! He's can't… this isn't… This -"

He paused, the words he was trying to say somehow unable to be spoken. It all sounded absurd… but not impossible. Sure, Goliath had gotten rid of the Phoenix Gate on his way back from his World Tour, and it might have somehow showed up in front of Brooklyn earlier this evening. But… this couldn't be Brooklyn; Brooklyn was a wise-cracking slacker who was just learning how to be responsible, trying to figure out how to get a female gargoyle's attention, joking about life and being his friend and -

Elijah turned away from the group, walking briskly down the hall, trying to remember where the nearest restroom was before his dinner ended up on the carpeted floor. He vaguely heard someone calling his name, but he didn't look back. He didn't know why he suddenly felt awful, but he hurried down the hall, searching for the right door. Finally, he stumbled into a restroom, ran into one of the stalls, and threw up into the toilet.

He hadn't thrown up in years. The last time was when he had the flu, and he had forgotten how unpleasant it was. Right when he thought it was over, it came up again, forcing him to think in-between hurls.

_He was gone for __**forty years**__,_ the teen thought to himself. _How is that even __**possible?!**__ He was normal, he was my friend, he was-_

HURL!

_ He's technically 20 years older now… he's __**forty**__ in gargoyle years! He's old enough to be a dad… he __**IS**__ a dad! He has a wife and a kid and… that's not a rock in her hand that's an-_

HURL!

_**FORTY! FREAKING! YEARS!**_

HURL!

When he finally stopped, Elijah was surprised to find himself crying, and he sat back against the stall wall, sobbing into his knees. He had no idea why he was crying, but all he could think about doing at the moment was cry, so he continued to do so. At some point, he got tired of hearing himself cry, and he tore out his hearing aids, the silence surrounding him like a blanket. He could still feel the vibrations of his crying, but he couldn't hear the noise itself.

Elijah knew one thing: his friend was gone, and whoever that gargoyle was in there, it wasn't the Brooklyn he knew. Brooklyn was gone for _forty years;_ he was now a completely different individual with new priorities, new experiences, and the last thing he probably wanted to do is deal with some deaf kid he hadn't seen in years. He didn't even greet him in ASL like he used to-

_Like he used to earlier today and yesterday and all the days before that,_ he thought.

The teen had no idea how long he sat there crying, not crying, then crying again. At some point, he felt a hand on his shoulder, a human one. He looked up, his vision blurry as he looked at his Uncle Jeffrey, who knelt on the ground next to him. One look on his face showed that he knew everything. Elijah had no idea how his uncle had gotten here or who told him what happened, but he was glad he was there.

"He... He's gone," the teen whispered, leaning into his uncle's hug, no longer crying and suddenly very tired. "That's not Brooklyn… Brooklyn's gone, he's..."

Elijah didn't hear his uncle's reply, if there even was one. He simply sat there, being hugged before he eventually drifted off to sleep.

###

**Brooklyn POV:**

"It's going te take some time," Hudson said.

_Time,_ Brooklyn thought with some annoyance. _Time is not something I want to talk about right now._

They stood on one of the castle towers, looking out at the city. It had been years since Brooklyn had seen this particular view of New York; it was almost surreal to look at, like something from a dream, but the cold January air and the lights of the city reminded him of the harsh reality he now faced. Even when they were fighting the Pack earlier that evening, he couldn't help but stare at the familiar yet also strange city around him. That caused Wolf to escape, but at least they got Jackal and Hyena.

"I… wasn't expecting him to get upset," Brooklyn eventually said.

"How did ye expect him ta react," Hudson asked.

"I don't know! I stopped thinking I would ever come home _years_ ago!" He winced. "Sorry. That was insincere of me."

"A bit, but I forgive ye." The aged gargoyle faced the river that gave him his namesake, a stoic expression on his face as well. "Robbins arrived a while ago. Eliza called him; she figured somethin' like this might happen. He's taken him home I suppose."

"Katana and Nashville -"

"In the kitchens. Broadway offered teacook for them, and Angela's asking about yer travels."

"At least… we won't be time-dancing anytime soon," Brooklyn said. "I… can feel it. At least I won't disappear again."

"Lad -"

"I'm not a lad anymore," the red gargoyle snapped, turning to face Hudson. "I stopped being a lad three decades ago, that's the problem! I've changed, but no one else here had changed with me! I -" He broke off, taking the piece of t-shirt from his pocket, staring at it for a few moments, seemingly in thought.

"I… I forgot how to sign," he eventually said, his voice hollow and pained. "I know nothing besides a few words here and there… I used most of this gift to kindle fires to survive." His remaining eye was starting to tear up, and he placed the memento back in the pouch. He looked at Hudson. "What do I do now?"

The aged gargoyle looked at the still younger one before him. He had been shocked to see how much Brooklyn had changed since November. However, after being frozen in time for a thousand years, along with a hundred other strange occurrences that had happened to him, Hudson was able to quickly adjust to Brooklyn's new age and family, as had the rest of the clan. Elijah, on the other hand… he had lost his parents seven months ago, and Brooklyn was his best and probably only friend. He could see why the teen had freaked out when he saw Brooklyn; how do you react to your best friend becoming someone different? The old Brooklyn, the one Elijah knew, was gone forever it seemed, so it was no small wonder he had gotten upset.

"I don't know if I'm qualified ta answer that," Hudson finally answered. "Though all ye can do now is move forward. Give him a day or two, let his uncle take care of him, then go talk to him. Use the time ta help yer family adjust to their new home and time." He looked at the city. "Be patient; it'll take time for yer friendship ta return ta normal."

Brooklyn sighed, looking out at the city as well. "It will never be normal," he said. "Not that it was normal in the first place." He unfurled his wings. "But I'm still gonna try. He's still my best friend, and I'll be damned if the Phoenix Gate takes that away from me."

777

**Mason POV:**

"Thailog is after the what," Mason asked.

"The Fourth Eye of Mab," the contact explained, the reception on his end of the phone conversation kind of spotty but still understandable. "Legend says its supposed to grant the owner untold powers, but it will corrupt and destroy them after a while."

"Sounds fun."

"If Thailog manages to find a way to harness that power, or if he sells it to someone undesirable -"

"That wouldn't be good," Mason agreed. "And we already have new enemies; I heard about the attack at one of our treasuries."

"Yeah. We'll be monitoring them," the contact replied. "We believe their main base is somewhere in Europe, but they have a secondary location in New York City."

"Whoever they are, we can't let them or anyone else get the Eye of Mab. Any idea where it is?"

"It's last known location was excavated a few months ago by a research team funded by, get this, Xanatos Enterprises."

"Why am I not surprised? Then can't we ask him where it is?"

"We did. He claimed nothing was there."

"And you don't believe him?"

"He's still an Illuminati member, but we can't go around accusing people without proof. Plus, he's a pawn we don't want to give up... not _yet,_ anyway."

"I understand," Mason said. "I dropped off my employer and his nephew at the Xanatos building earlier tonight, at separate times. Not sure why they were there, though; they could have gone there for some other reason unrelated to Xanatos."

"Keep an eye on them," the contact ordered him. "Jeffrey Robins has some influence as an author, so he may be friends with Xanatos. Any info on the nephew?"

"Elijah Robbins. Parents died last Summer, he moved up here to live with his uncle in Weisman. He's deaf, and apparently good at the piano."

"Surely Jeffrey wouldn't be mixed up with Xanatos if he has family around… Still, keep an eye out for anything suspicious, and then report back to me."

"Yes sir."

###

**Thailog POV:**

"So why are we in France," Shari asked. "I thought we knew that Xanatos had taken the Fourth Eye with him months ago."

"True," Thailog said, eyes scanning the cave floor, "but we only need a piece of rock that was near the eye in order for our sensor to work. Granted, it might take a few months to extract the magical essence from it, but once we do, we can track the stone's location to anywhere in the world. It'll help make things easier when I steal it." Eventually, he came upon a roped-off area, and took a stone from the ground. "This will do."

"So now we wait," Shari asked, a frown on her face as she watched her employer pocket the rock. "What are we supposed to do until Spring?"

"Don't worry," the gargoyle clone said, taking a small device from his sleeve. Tapping a few buttons, he showed her the screen. "I think things are about to get more interesting for our Illuminati friends."

She stared at the image, which appeared to have been taken from a flying drone robot. It was a group of five individuals leaping to attack it; one was a gargoyle, one a mutate, two humans, and the last being some sort of unshaped silvery metal. "The attack at one of the Illuminati treasuries. Are they -"

"Indeed," Thailog said. "It appears these bad guys want to play hero." He smiled. "We'll give them some chances to do so... just for fun."

"You always said you liked those stories of gladiators fighting endless and useless battles," Shari agreed, smiling as well. "A few missions here and there to see how skilled they are?"

"Yes. And who knows? If I play my cards right, they'll be working for _me!_" He laughed at that, leading the woman out of the cave and into the dark Parisian night.

* * *

**Once again, I apologize for any confusion with this chapter last week. I hope you enjoyed this chapter, given the main subject featuring Elijah and Brooklyn's friendship. When I read about this part of the comic series, I knew that this was going to be a intense and pivotal moment in my story; I hope I did it justice. It is also momentous because this night was the subject of the last comic book in the series, meaning that the events after this are going to be ones I come up with [but I still do not own Gargoyles or any of the characters besides my OCs].**

**Though WOW! It took me a while to get in the mindset of learning that my best friend is gone forever. They are not dead, but they are radically different from the person we used to know. Naturally, it's gonna take some time for Elijah to come to terms with this new situation, and Brooklyn has to readjust to not fighting for his life all the time was travelling through time. And with the new characters in his family and whatever Thailog has planned, the rest of this story is going to get pretty interesting. **

**Feel free to follow or favorite this story to be updated on new chapters, and feel free to leave a review on this chapter or others if you want. ****And, as usual, have a safe and happy week/weekend!**

**Quick PSA: _PLEASE __BE CAREFUL AND SAFE WHEN YOU GO OUTSIDE!_ Seriously, you guys are awesome, and while being stuck at home gives you more time to read fanfiction, it's not good for you or your loved ones. Keep yourselves and everyone else outside safe. Thank you.**

**-aggiefrogger**

**Note: I do NOT own _Mona Lisa and Mad Hatters, The Fresh Prince of Bel Air_ or Elton John at all.**


	18. Chapter 18

**Hey Readers!**

**So this chapter is probably one of the most important ones that will come out of this story. Sorry if that sounds dramatic, but I think it to be true. Now, with the canon timeline complete, everything else that will follow will come from my imagination. I'm kind of nervous about that, no longer having a canon timeline to use as a guide with my story, but I am ready to continue with this story, and I know it will be something worthy in the end. **

**This chapter is dedicated to my grandmother, who passed away nearly two weeks ago. May she rest in peace.**

**Enjoy the chapter.**

* * *

**Robbins and Rogers**

Jeffrey Robbins knew his nephew was going through a troubling time, and after much debating and a few phone calls, he decided to bring Elijah along on his weekend trip to Pittsburgh.

The blind author never really thought of himself as that famous of an author, compared to the likes of Tolkein, Lewis or Shelly, so he was surprised when he got a call from a television company in Pittsburgh, asking if he would like to be a guest star on _Mr. Roger's Neighborhood_ to do a segment about famous disabled individuals. It was to show children that they could do anything they set their mind to, no matter what physical or mental handicaps they might have. Robbins, knowing about the educational and moral background of the show, said yes. He wasn't originally planning on bringing Elijah, since he would have had to miss school, but after what happened earlier that January, he figured his nephew needed a distraction.

Ever since Brooklyn returned from his forty-year time dancing trip with his family in tow, Elijah had expressed no desire to see him, or any gargoyle for that matter. Even Hudson and Lex, who wanted to catch up after being gone for months, were shunned by the teen when they came to the Robbins house. Elijah locked himself in his room, and the occasional sound of his keyboard playing was heard. He needed to talk to someone, but he refused to talk, even going so far as to snap at his uncle to shut up whenever he tried. Amanda had shown up a few times, trying to talk to him, but all he would talk to her about was school work. Needless to say, Jeffrey Robbins agreed that a distraction was probably what he needed at the moment, and the teen was momentarily excited at the opportunity to miss school and meet a semi-famous individual.

They flew out on Friday the 17th of the month, landing in Pittsburgh in the early afternoon. Filming of the episode would start the next day, a Saturday, and the episode would air a week or so later. The taxi dropped them off at their hotel, and the Robbins' were just settling into their hotel when they received a call from the studio Apparently, Mr. Rogers himself wanted to meet with them after finishing filming for that day, and had even invited them for dinner that night.

"Dinner with Mr. Rogers," Elijah muttered, a mixture of excitement and confusion going through his brain. He was at an age where he wasn't supposed to like children's TV shows anymore, but he had grown up watching Mr. Rogers. The guy was probably the nicest person currently living, and someone the teen would like to meet, but he wasn't sure how he would act off camera; for all the world knew, he was a horrible person outside of work.

"Good think I insisted you bring a nice sweater," Uncle Jeffrey said, petting Gilly on the head before going to the phone to call a taxi.

"Maybe I should just stay here," Elijah said, picking at the end of his bed sheets. "I mean, it's probably gonna be just a bunch of boring talk."

"It would be rude to not come," his uncle said, the blind man sensing the real reason he didn't want to come; he was trying to close himself off from social contact in response to his sorrow. "Come on; it'll be fun. Besides, I'm not leaving you alone in a strange city; I gotta keep an eye on you."

"Ha ha," the teen said, smiling at his uncle's joke. "Fine. But I haven't watched his show in years, so I hope he doesn't ask me about it!"

[]

An hour or so later, they arrived at the television studio in eastern Pittsburgh, and were greeted by an individual who introduced herself as Erica. She worked on the television show set as a writer's assistant, and was there to escort them to the proper sound stage.

"I know Mr. Rogers is interested to meet you, Mr. Robbins," she told them, leading them through the many halls of the broadcasting studio. "And your nephew too, once he learned he was coming."

"I apologize if it was last minute," Jeffrey said, following Gilly's guidance as Elijah looked around with mild interest.

"Well, if it was an annoyance, Fred never let it on," she said candidly. "He's the kind of person who could find a silver lining in any cloud!"

"I believe that." They reached a set of double doors, and stepped into the television show set.

Elijah, who had never been in a TV studio or on a set before, looked around with shock. Cameras, lights, sound equipment and all kinds of electronic gadgets took up most of the room, surrounding the stage area that held the set. He recognized the iconic set, of course; he could see the front porch, living room with the stoplight hanging on the wall, and the kitchen with the fish tank. And then, past that, was the Land of Make Believe, just as colorful and whimsical as the last time Elijah had seen it, some eight or so years ago. Many people stood around, talking and checking equipment and watching a man on set, who was talking with a grey-haired individual in a green sweater, khakis, and tennis shoes.

_That's… Mr. Rogers,_ Elijah thought, stunned to be seeing the man in person.

Fred Rogers looked just as kind in real life as he did on TV. Even now, he had a smile on his face as he talked to someone with a clipboard, the wrinkles on his face showing his age and years of happiness. There was no doubts in the teen's mind if the man was kind outside of the show or not, especially when he caught sight of the two Robbins. His smile somehow got more radiant, and he excused himself, walking over to them.

"Mr. Robbins," he said, smiling and shaking the author's outstretched hand. "It is so nice to finally meet you. I'm so glad you were able to come this weekend to film the episode."

"Thank you so much for having us," Jeffrey said. "This is my nephew, Elijah."

"Elijah," Mr. Rogers said, shaking the teen's hand and smiling warmly. "Your uncle told me you would be coming."

"It's nice to meet you, Mr. Rogers, sir," the teen said, feeling like he was living some crazy dream, meeting Mr. Rogers in real life. Amanda wouldn't believe it when he told her.

"Your uncle tells me you're quite the piano player," Mr. Rogers said.

"And I heard you're a good piano player too," Elijah added, remembering something about Mr. Rogers writing all the songs for the show.

"Both my wife Joanne and I love to play," the man confessed. "We could probably play something at our apartment after I finish filming here."

"Fred," someone called. "We need you on set."

"Please excuse me," Mr. Rogers said. "Feel free to stick around if you want, or you can wait in the green room next door." He thanked them again for coming and then went back to the set, Erica leading them off to the side so they could watch without disturbing anyone.

"First impressions,"she asked.

"... Wow," Elijah said simply. "He's…"

"A very nice man," Uncle Jeffry answered, smiling. "What does he look like?"

"Older than you, greying hair, and a kind smile."

"The nicest I've ever seen," the assistant said. "And in this business, it's nice to have a friendly face that lets you know everything's okay. Especially when you have rude coworkers."

Watching Mr. Rogers film his TV show was just as impressive. He was calm and courteous throughout, and he wasn't afraid to ask for help when he needed directions on where to stand or what to do. Elijah noticed that some people seemed to get slightly frustrated with his slow and steady approach, but Rogers stayed kind and cheerful throughout, as if he didn't notice their attitude.

To Elijah's surprise, Mr. Rogers lived within walking distance of the studio, so they walked to his apartment, enjoying the cool winter afternoon. Throughout the walk, Mr. Rogers asked them questions about themselves, only pausing to return a greeting random strangers gave him.

"I've never been to Galveston before," Mr. Rogers told him. "It must be a beautiful place to live, right next to the ocean. Though it must be very hot."

"It can get up into the 90s," Elijah agreed, still a little awkward as he walked next to the celebrity TV host. He was torn, mostly because Mr. Rogers seemed like the calmest individual he had ever met, and one that you could tell them anything and they wouldn't change in demeanor. "It took me a while to get used to the cold up here."

"Yes, but I love the snow," Mr. Rogers said, indicating to the small drifts that had been shoveled aside as sidewalk salt cracked under their feet. "The world becomes transformed whenever it snows, don't you think?"

"I couldn't agree more," Uncle Jeffrey said. "It's one of the reasons I moved up north. Winter has always been my favorite season."

They reached the man's modest apartment, and met his wife Joanne. She was a kind faced individual, the glasses on her nose showing the twinkle in her eyes. As she showed them around, Elijah couldn't help but notice two pianos in the sitting room, and asked if she played.

"Oh yes," Mrs. Rogers said modestly. "I have a Masters in Music and I still play with my best friend every now and then. I take it you play?"

"Just a bit for choir. Nothing fancy."

"I never really think pianos are fancy instruments," Mr. Rogers said philosophically, his voice as calm and clear as it was on his TV show. "Nor do I think any music is fancy. Music can be a lot of things, but I've yet to find a piece that's fancy."

"Oh, Fred," Joanne said, smiling and taking his hand. "I've got dinner ready. I hope you two like casserole!"

It was a delicious meal. The Rogers were vegetarians, and the vegetable casserole was delicious. The adults mainly talked about the show and their lives while Elijah listened. He didn't mind; he didn't feel much like talking anyway. He excused himself when they started talking about their families, going into the living room to play with Gilly.

There wasn't much he could think about besides losing his best friend. No matter how he thought about it, there was no other way to think about it; Brooklyn wasn't the same individual anymore, and therefore wasn't friends with him. When he was younger, there was a neighbor named Tom who lived nearby that Elijah was friends with. He moved one year, but moved back two years later, a completely different person. It had been awkward, seeing him again, since both had moved on with their lives and become different people. They ended up not becoming friends again, and that was what scared the teen the most; how could he hope to be friends with someone who had been perfectly fine on his own for forty years.

Gilly's toy rolled underneath the piano bench, and Elijah went after it, sending it rolling back to the German shepherd. As he stood back up, he looked at the piano, which was a grand piano that looked like something out of a music store. Every key was so clean, he could see his reflection in it. This was far better than his plastic keyboard back home, and better than the old upright piano in the choir room.

"You can play it if you like," a voice said, and the teen turned to find Mr. Rogers standing in the doorway. "I figured you would like to at some point; your uncle tells me you have a real talent."

"He's probably exaggerated it," Elijah said, slightly embarrassed at his uncle's praise, and all the attention he was getting. "I doubt I'm as good as you or Mrs. Rogers."

"Joanne is a good pianist," Mr. Rogers admitted, walking over to the piano as Gilly wandered back into the dining room. "Though I would still like to hear you play something, if that's alright with you."

"Uh… fine," Elijah said, sitting down at the bench, wondering what he should play. He didn't know many pieces by heart, and he wasn't sure which one would impress the TV host. Then, moments later, he realized he didn't want to play anything, but he couldn't just say he changed his mind; that would be rude, and if there was anyone he didn't want to be rude to, it would be Mr. Rogers. So, he just sat at the piano for nearly a minute, unsure of where to go.

"Are you okay, Elijah," Mr. Rogers asked, noting his troubled expression.

His calming voice was enough to snap the teen from his thoughts, and he hit his knee against the piano. "Y-Yeah," he lied, grimacing through the pain. "I'm… fine."

The man sat down in another chair, concern on his face. "If I may say so, you seem troubled, Elijah. Something has hurt you, and I don't think it was the piano."

The teen was immediately on guard; he had a feeling that Mr. Rogers would probably attempt to pry into his business, and while he didn't hate the man, he just didn't want to talk about what he was going through. "I'm… not sure what you mean," he finally said.

"You are hurting, on the inside," Rogers continued. "I can read it in how you talk and walk. You are sad."

"S-So," Elijah asked, trying not to get annoyed at one of the nicest people on the planet. "People can be sad sometimes. Is that bad?"

"Not always. Sometimes, we feel sad for little bits of time. It is when the sadness takes over our lives that it becomes a problem."

"I'm not sad all the time."

"Then why don't you seem happy? You are in someplace new, with an uncle who cares about you very much, but I haven't even seen you smile."

"I don't have to be happy all the time," Elijah finally snapped at him. "And I'm sorry for not smiling. I've got other things on my mind besides worrying about whether or not I've smiled today!"

The silence that followed was deafening. Mr. Rogers' face remained passive and unchanged, though Elijah's flushed with embarrassment. He wasn't used to getting upset with anyone, especially not an adult, and _especially_ not Mr. Rogers. He snapped at the man in his own home, after being treated with nothing but kindness. Surely this would be the time that he would tell him to mind his manners or something. Instead, Fred Rogers did something else.

"Do you know what this means," he asked the teen, holding out both of his index fingers in a hooked C-shape. Holding one hand with his C facing up, he hooked the second C into the first. Then he reversed the position for the hands and did it again.

"Y-Yeah," Elijah said, his voice quiet and hollow. "It means _friend_."

"I've always liked this word," Mr. Rogers said, signing it again. "And how it's signed. It's like your fingers are best friends and they're giving each other a hug." He set his hands down. "Friends are there to help one another in times of need. They are there for one another, and care for and want good to happen for the other." He smiled kindly. "I know that we're not exactly best friends, like those you may have back in New York, but I would like to help you with whatever is hurting you."

The deaf teen found himself starting to tear up, and quickly wiped his eye. He was starting to remember why the man was so popular with everyone, and why his show had been on for _decades_. It was like he was reading his mind and soul, sensing what was wrong with him and saying what needed to be said to make him feel better. Elijah absentmindedly played one of the keys on the piano, the sound echoing through the silent room.

"I have this friend," he finally said, trying to keep his emotions in check and make sure he didn't reveal the clan's secret. "Brooklyn. He is… was, my best friend for a long time. The first one I made since moving to Weisman. He… went away for a while, suddenly, and now he's back… but he's different. He's not the same… person I knew before he left."

"I see," Mr. Rogers said. "And you're scared that he has changed too much to be your friend anymore?"

"He _has_ changed too much," the teen answered. "He's like a whole other person now. When I saw him again… I…" He wiped at his eyes again. "I didn't even recognize him."

Mr. Rogers was silent for a few moments, sitting still in his place. "Do you want to be friends with him still," he finally asked.

"I… Yes," Elijah said, surprised by the question. "Of course I want to."

"These changes your friend went through," the man continued, "was it something you or him could control? Did he mean to become a different person?"

"No… no."

"Have you talked to him since he came home?"

"Just for a minute or two. I… kind of got upset and left. That was about a week ago."

"Mhm. Then why won't you forgive him?"

"I… What?"

"It seems that your friend had no control over his personality changing. It is a natural thing to occur when people are gone for long periods of time." Elijah was going to interject, but something in Mr. Rogers' tone made him stay silent.

"It is especially hard when friends and loved ones come back changed; we remember them for who they were before they left, and when they come back different, it scares us. It scares us, because we don't know if they will still like us or want to be friends with us. We are scared of them becoming someone that we don't like. Most of all, we are scared of how this will affect our futures.

"Like I said before," he continued, "friends want and desire good things to happen for the other. They enjoy one another's company, and share in their triumphs and victories. But they also share in their sadness and losses. When someone we know changes, we are unsure if those same feelings of wanting the good for the other will remain, and if they will return it. But how do you know what will happen if you don't give your friend a chance? If they are really your friend, no amount of differences can keep you from being friends again. But… do you want to be friends with him again?"

Elijah was silent, mulling over what he had heard. He knew Mr. Rogers wasn't one to skip around deep issues, but… This was incredible. It was as if the past week or so of his life had been a mess of puzzle pieces, but Mr. Rogers had given him the piece that made everything clear. He realized how stupid he had been, wondering if his friendship with Brooklyn was over while at the same time refusing to do anything to make it better. It all came to him at once, and he started to cry.

Again, he hated crying in front of people, especially in front of strangers. However, he didn't feel embarrassed for some reason. If anything, he felt… better. As if someone had taken a heavy backpack off his shoulders, and had given him a map that would help him get to where he needed to go. He felt Mr. Rogers take his hand, and looked up at the man, who was smiling at him.

"I'm sorry," Elijah said, trying to wipe his eyes with his free hand. "I was…"

"It's perfectly fine to cry," Mr. Rogers informed him. "Sometimes we all just need to show how we are feeling. We can't keep it inside us forever."

"Yeah," the teen agreed, smiling a little. "Thanks… for talking to me. I'm sorry… for being rude to you earlier."

"I forgive you," Mr. Rogers said kindly.

In the doorway to the living room, Jeffrey Robbins wiped his own eyes with his free hand, the other one holding Joanne's. Both had heard their conversation, and were touched by Mr. Roger's words.

"Your husband is a saint," the blind author told her.

"No," she said, smiling a little. "He's just Fred."

* * *

_... so I hope we can get past these changes, and know that I want to be friends again,_ Brooklyn signed shakily, checking his old ASL dictionary to make sure he was correct.

He found that it was easier to re-learn sign language than he had originally thought. He figured muscle memory came into play, though he still wasn't as fluent as he used to be. At the moment, he was working on what to say to Elijah when he saw him again, figuring it would be better accepted if he signed it.

Brooklyn had not seen his best friend since he and his family arrived back in this time, which was about ten days ago. Elijah had run off, was later found by his uncle, and both went home. The teen expressed no interest in seeing him or any of the clan, which both hurt and angered the gargoyle. He just wanted them to be friends again, and for him to meet his family, though with every passing day, it seemed less likely to happen. He felt guilty for being gone for forty years, though he knew that he had no control over it. And he had changed, in more ways than one.

Nashville was nearby, practicing his Bushido techniques with his Kodachi sword. He was calm and precise with his movements, just like his mother, who was currently looking after their unhatched child in their room. Katana, Nashville and Fu-Dog were all adjusting to their new home and time, though they still carried all their belongings with them, in case they were sent to another place and time at any moment. They were welcomed by the rest of the clan warmly, and were starting to settle into their new lives. Brooklyn turned back to his dictionary and written out letter, figuring he would go over what he was going to say [or rather sign again].

**Dad,** Nashville called in Japanese, sheathing his sword. **Can we go for a flight? **

**Did you finish your techniques,** Brooklyn asked.

**Yes. And mom said we could. She said we could go see that Central Park place Goliath told us about. Or see a movie.** He walked over to the table, looking over his dad's shoulder. **Whatcha doin'?**

**Nothing that concerns you,** he said kindly yet with a tone that meant the subject was closed, setting his letter in the note and closing the book. **C'mon; we'll let your mother know where we're going.**

Katana said it was fine if they went for a quick flight, wanting to stay behind and look after Egwardo. She didn't like all the lights and noise of the city, preferring a quieter setting, but she was happy to let them go. Afterwards, they headed to the main hall, figuring they would see if anyone else wanted to join them. Brooklyn wanted his son to fell that he was part of the clan, and everyone else wanted to make the only child in the group feel welcome.

"I'll go," Lex offered. "It's been a while since I've really flown around the city. I need to get used to skyscrapers everywhere again."

"Were there no skyscrapers in Europe," Nashville asked him.

"Not as many as there are here."

"I'll come too," Broadway and Angela said. They had been feeling slightly awkward since Brooklyn came back with a family. "We could use the fresh air."

"Fine," Brooklyn said as the elevator dinged open behind them. Probably Owen or Xanatos to see Goliath. "Let's head outside and get going!" He turned around to head towards the courtyard when he saw who had just stepped off the elevator, freezing where he stood.

It was Elijah.

He was just as how Brooklyn had remembered him. He seemed shorter, though that was because he himself had grown during his travels. The teen's hair was still short, not unlike his uncle's, and his hands still shook whenever he was nervous. They were shivering now. He was wearing a jacket and jeans, and his hearing aids were visible, the plastic shining in the light.

Everyone was silent, staring at Elijah as if he were a ghost. He in return stared at them as if he were seeing them for the first time. It was a silent stare off for a few moments, but then Brooklyn finally snapped out of his surprise, trying to remember what he was going to sign.

_E-Elijah,_ he started shakily, making sure his fingers were in the right configuration as he signed. _I… Sorry for everything. I wanted to… ask… forgiveness for…_

"No," Elijah interrupted, finally walking towards him, stopping a few feet away. Brooklyn's hands fell, unsure of what was going to happen. "I… _I'm_ the one that needs to apologize." He hesitated, hands still shivering, then started again.

"I wasn't fair to you earlier. I was upset… I thought I had lost my best friend. I thought…" He paused again, eyes somewhere off in the distance. "I thought that, now that you had a family… you wouldn't want to be friends with me anymore. I was being selfish, not talking to you or asking what you wanted." He looked back at Brooklyn, looking nervous. "I just… wanted to say that I'm sorry, and I understand if you don't want to be friends anymore. I accept that. I just didn't want to -"

Brooklyn walked forward and hugged him, cutting off his apology. He was crying silently, blinking away tears as he hugged his first real human friend. If he were forty years younger, he would have found hugging to probably be something 'unmanly' or some other stupid reason, but he embraced his friend now. Elijah, after a few moments of shock, hugged him back, a few tears in his eyes. Angela was crying as well, and Broadway and Lexington simply watched the two friends reconciling with shocked yet happy faces.

Nashville was the one to break the silence, looking between his father and the human with confusion. "Uh… dad," he asked tentatively, noticing that his dad was crying and wondered why he would be crying. "Who's this human?"

Brooklyn let go, turning to his son with a smile. "An old friend," he answered. "My _best_ friend."

"Yeah," Elijah agreed, smiling as well. He turned, holding out a hand to Nashville. "Hi. My name's Elijah. Elijah Robbins."

* * *

**The inspiration for this chapter came to me from an unusual source. With the two Mr. Rogers movies that came out these past few years, and realizing he would be alive during this time, I figured what better person to help Elijah with his sadness than Mr. Rogers? I know, it may seem kind of corny, but I really think that he was the person who needed to help Elijah reconcile with Brooklyn in the end. I also wanted to follow Rogers' example, showing how a little kindness can go a long way. **

**Also all conversations in**** bold**** is spoken Japanese.**

**Feel free to follow or favorite this story to be updated on new chapters, and feel free to leave a review on this chapter or others if you want. ****And, as usual, have a safe and happy week/weekend!**

**Quick PSA: _PLEASE __BE CAREFUL AND SAFE WHEN YOU GO OUTSIDE!_ Seriously, you guys are awesome, and while being stuck at home gives you more time to read fanfiction, it's not good for you or your loved ones. Keep yourselves and everyone else outside safe. Thank you.**

**-aggiefrogger**

**Note: I do NOT own Mr. Rogers' Neighborhood or Mr. or Mrs. Rogers at all.**


	19. Chapter 19

**Hello again readers!**

**As some of you know, I lost all my stories in progress on my computer a couple weeks ago. I took the steps in an effort to try to get the stories back, but I was unable to do so. So, in light of that, I have had to rewrite whole chapters for all of my stories, and now have backup plans in case this ever happens again. **

**Fortunately for this chapter, I hadn't gotten that far into writing it when the computer crashed, so I didn't have to rewrite a whole lot of it, and am able to post it today. I hope you all like it, and enjoy the story!**

* * *

**Heaven is a Place on Earth**

Elijah Robbins and Amanda Ross had been good friends since Halloween night of 1996. They often studied together after school at the library or at the Robbins house, him helping her with her regular subjects while she helped him with choir. They sometimes worked on songs, him playing the piano while she sang; she had a good voice. She came by some nights in the early evening to hang out and sign with Brooklyn, and, after his Time Trip, with Nashville as well. Besides his uncle and June, Elijah considered Amanda to be one of his only human friends.

Nashville was like a stereotypical nine-year-old: energetic, mischievous, and could either be your best friend or worst enemy, depending on his current mood. Add the fact that he knew how to fight with a sword, and he was a force to be reckoned with. He was very smart, taking to Sign Language as quickly as his father had, and he even offered to teach them some Japanese, though he quickly gave up after one lesson, not having the patient to explain everything.

The young gargoyle was also interested in their time and everything that was ordinary to Elijah. After travelling through time and space for so long, Nashville was happy to have the time learn all he could about his new home. Elijah and Amanda were happy to teach him about television, public transportation, and restaurants. Amanda, who was back to working at Blockbuster, rented some movies to show him, and they spent a few nights watching classic movies and kids movies [despite the gargoyle being 18 years old in human years].

"He's quite an energetic one," Hudson commented, watching Nashvile chase Bronx around the Robbins home, Elijah in pursuit. "I have no idea how ye an' Katana managed fer eighteen years by yerselves."

"It wasn't easy," Brooklyn agreed. "How'd you think I lost this eye?"

"Somehow I find that hard to believe," Jeffrey said, scratching Gilly's head.

"Actually lost it in medieval Europe. Fortunately, I time travelled forward to a time with good medical supplies right after."

"Tryin' te copy me, eh lad," Hudson asked, smiling and motioning to the scar over his eye.

"You know me," the younger gargoyle said, still his usual sarcastic self.

Meanwhile, Elijah had abandoned his chase and was back in the living room. Amanda was just finishing her math homework, and had given it to him to review.

"So remember the PEMDAS method when you have problems with multiple steps," he told her, pointing out the problems she missed. "And take your time; you got a few questions wrong because you didn't check your work."

She sighed. "I hate math," she complained.

"So do I."

"But it comes so easy for you."

"Well you're a great singer, so we both have our talents."

She blushed a little. "Thanks," she said.

Elijah gave her a kind smile in return then checked his watch. "It's nearly ten," he told her. "You should probably get going before your curfew hits."

"Okay." She started to pack up her books, then stopped, turning to him. "Are… you doing anything two weeks from tonight?"

"I dunno," the deaf teen replied, trying to do the quick math, since the first of February was tomorrow. "I guess… I'll be here like always. Why? Are you going out of town or something? We won't watch any movies without you."

"No," Amanda said quickly, brushing her hair back from over her ears. She stood up, walking closer to him. "I was just… wondering if you wanted to…" The teen hesitated, trying to steel herself to say what she needed to say. "So I don't know if you heard about this dance that's coming up…"

"... Dance," Elijah asked, finally realizing that two weeks from now was the 14th of February, a deer-in-the-headlights look on his face.

"Yeah," she agreed, trying not to be embarrassed. "It's like prom, but for everyone, and the girls ask the guys." She gave him a small smile. "It has music, food, and just about everyone in school goes."

"You're… asking me to a dance," Elijah asked, thrown off by the sudden proposal. "On Valentine's Day."

"... Yes."

"Say yes," Nashville yelled from the living room doorway, having abandoned his chase and listening to their conversation for the past minute.

"Nashville," Brooklyn yelled from the library, followed by an order in Japanese; he tended to use Katana's native language whenever he was upset.

The young gargoyle winced, knowing he screwed up. "Uh oh. But you better say yes." He left, preparing himself for the short lecture he would receive from his father.

The two teens were stunned for a few seconds, both embarrassed and surprised by the turn of events. Eventually, Elijah cleared his throat, scratching the side of his head.

"So… this dance," he finally said.

"Yes," she answered, her cheeks red with humiliation; his own were flushed as well.

"It… sounds like a lot of fun."

Amanda gave him a glowing smile, and Elijah couldn't help but notice how nice she looked in her sweater. "So you want to go," she asked. "I mean, if you can't that's fine -"

"I'd like to go," he interrupted, smiling a little now that they were both at ease. "I mean, it would be rude of me not to."

"Kind of," she agreed.

"Okay then… it's a date."

The word seemed to hang in the air for a few moments, the two teenagers looking at one another silently during that time. Finally, Amanda broke the spell, heading for the living room door. While Elijah didn't see her as she left, she had a smile on her face that remained on her face for the rest of the evening.

The deaf teen, meanwhile, was also smiling a little, walking towards the library, scratching Bronx behind the ear on his way there. He was in a sort of dream state, wondering if what had just happened… happened. He had never been on a date with anyone before, and he wondered why he hadn't gone on one sooner.

Brooklyn was chastising his son in Japanese, the young gargoyle silently taking it as Hudson and Jeffrey Robbins

"I take it Amanda went home," Uncle Jeffrey asked.

"Y-Yeah," Elijah said, sitting down at the table, wondering if he should keep this from them or not. However, the decision was shortly made for him.

"She finally asked ye out, didn't she," Hudson asked, as if he had been expecting it for some time.

Brooklyn abruptly stopped talking, tuning first to Hudson and then to Elijah, mouth slightly agape. "What," he asked. "Why would she-"

"Valentine's Day dance," the deaf teen said. "She just asked if I wanted to go, and I… said yes."

Some silence followed this statement, but then Brooklyn gave a whoop of celebration, jumping up from his seat and giving his friend a hug, not unlike a sports team member that just won the championship.

"FINALLY," he yelled, nearly lifting him out of his chair, acting like his old self and so unlike the responsible gargoyle he now was. Nashville watched his dad with shock, though he also seemed to be trying to hold in a laugh. "You're finally going out! We're both gonna have families!"

"WOAH," Elijah said, managing to wriggle free, taking a few steps back. "It's just a dance, and we're just friends! It's not like we're gonna start dating or get married after this!"

"It's how your parents met," his uncle said, a small smile on his face. "If you need help with finding a suit, there's a rental place in town, though I think every young man should have their own suit by now for occasions like this."

"I told him to say yes," Nashville said proudly, his smile faltering as his dad gave him a harsh look, reminding him why he had gotten into trouble earlier. "Sorry, dad."

"How'd you know she'd ask me out," the deaf teen asked Hudson. "Don't tell me she told you first."

"When ye get ta be my age," he said, picking up his mug of tea, "ye learn how ta sense these things." And that was the only explanation he gave.

[]

The next two weeks was a roller coaster of various emotions for Elijah. Most of it fear, but there was also some excitement, anticipation, happiness, and doubt. Specifically, there was one worrisome fact that he couldn't shake, but he didn't let it stop him from preparing for the dance.

He and Amanda decided to go get something to eat before the dance at a local restaurant; nothing too fancy, but not someplace you shouldn't take a date. She told him that her dress would be green, and his uncle informed him that his tie and pocket square needed to be a color that matched her dress. He took Elijah the weekend before to a department store in the mall, verbally guiding him through the suit and tie purchases. They got him a nice, practical suit that would work for weddings, funerals, and school dances for the next couple years.

At school, posters advertising the dance were in every hall, and most that everyone was talking about was said dance, and there were even a few elaborate proposals from the more extroverted students. Word also got around that Amanda was going to the dance with him, the deaf kid, and he heard some whispering in the hallway, but got no other trouble. Most probably figured she was only going out with him because she pitied him, but he knew it wasn't the case; they were good friends, and knew she would never do something like that. She was a little shaken up by the rumors, and spent every day after school with him the week before the dance, focused solely on her homework and ASL practice.

Finally, the night of the dance, Valentine's Day, arrived. Around six in the afternoon, Elijah got into the back seat of the small limo, his Uncle by the door wishing him good luck. Gilly seemed to agree, barking as Mason drove out of the driveway, heading towards Amanda's house.

"Nervous," the driver asked from the front seat.

"Yes," the teen said simply, a small plastic box with a corsage in it sitting next to him. He found that the less he thought about the specifics of the date, the less worried he would be. All he could do was hope that he wasn't wearing too much cologne and that he wasn't sweating. "You know where she lives, right?"

"Must be nervous," Mason joked. "This sin't the first time I've been to her house; I drop her off there at least once a week sometimes."

"Oh yeah… Any advice?"

"All I can say is be yourself, don't say anything rude, don't _act_ rude, and let her know she looks nice. Girls like that."

"Got it."

They arrived at her house a few minutes later, and Elijah got out, making sure his tie was straight. The driver gave him a thumbs up through the window, and the teen slowly approached the front door, knocking on the door after some hesitation. To his horror, Mr. Ross answered, nearly making him drop the corsage.

"Uh… h-hi Mr. Ross," the deaf teen said, trying to keep his voice normal and look less pathetic. "I'm here to pick up Amanda."

"I know," he said, turning behind him as if to check on someone before turning back to him, holding out his hand for him to shake. "I'm George Ross, Amanda's father."

"Nice to meet you." He shook his hand, noting that her dad had a strong grip that nearly crushed his fingers. "I brought this," he said, holding out the flower.

"I think my daughter would prefer that more than me," he said, inviting him into the house. It was a lot smaller than his uncle's house, but looked more homey, with several family pictures on the wall. It wasn't his first time visiting here, but Amanda's dad was usually still a work during that time.

"So I think you know what's coming next," Mr. Ross continued, turning to the teen with a serious expression. "Her curfew is still the same, 10 pm, and if I find out you've done anything to her, you'll have _me_ to answer to." Even though the teen figured he would say something like this, it was still scary, especially since her dad was several inches taller than him.

"Y-Yes sir," the deaf teen agreed, not doubting that her dad would come after him. "I don't plan on doing anything like that."

"Dad, don't scare him," a voice said from the top of the stairs, and Elijah turned to look up, all of his breath seeming to leave him at once.

Amanda stood at the top of the stairs, wearing a simple yet stunning forest green ankle-length dress. Her hair was brushed back and tied in an elegant knot on her head. She held a small handbag in her hand, and she smiled nervously as she walked down the stairs toward him. Elijah was momentarily speechless; she didn't look nice -

"Wow… You look beautiful," he heard himself saying, blushing a little as he remembered her dad was standing right there, and hoped he wasn't being too forward.

"Thank you," she said graciously, not a trace of pride in her voice; she seemed almost humble, as if she didn't deserve the praise she was receiving. She turned to her dad. "We'll be back by ten."

"Okay, sweetie," he said, giving his daughter a hug. "Stay safe, will you?"

"I will," she promised.

"Pictures," Mrs. Ross sang, walking into the foyer at that moment with a small camera and a smile. "Both of you go over there, this'll only take a minute!"

[]

It took five minutes, but the two teens finally made their way to the waiting car and then to the restaurant. Dinner was uneventful; they talked about school and asked each other how they were doing, ate, then walked over to the high school [which wasn't that far from there], allowing Mason a few hours off before he had to pick them up afterwards. Throughout the dinner, the old doubt kept creeping into Elijah's mind, but he ignored it, smiling and laughing at a funny story Amanda told him.

The gym had been decorated to fit the theme, which was a Night Under the Stars. Twinkling lights had been strung up on posts over the floor, with some cardboard stars hanging from the ends of the bleachers. Tables were set up at one end of the gym with snacks and punch, though most of the students were on the dance floor as some song played from a DJ stand set up on the opposite end of the floor. Everyone was either laughing or singing along with the music, though some who wanted to talk were standing off to the side, trying to make one another head over the din. Several teachers and volunteer parents stood along the edges, making sure nothing went wrong.

"They did a good job with the decorations," Amanda said loudly, a few of the lights twinkling in her eyes. "Wanna start dancing?"

"Yeah," Elijah agreed, holding out his hand to her. As soon as he did, he froze, wondering why he was offering to hold her hand. They were here as friends, and they both knew this; what if she got offended or thought he was trying to make a move.

She smiled. "Yes," she said, taking his hand as they walked onto the dance floor. They got a few looks as they walked onto the floor, but they quickly forgot that as they started to dance. They didn't hold hands or anything like that, no one really did for faster songs like this; they simply moved and stepped to the music, no one judging one another's abilities.

_Spinnin' N Reelin with love! Woah-oh!_

_Spinnin' N Reelin with love! Woah-oh!_

Elijah could tell that Amanda was great at dancing, and loved to dance; the way she smiled, her dress twirling around her as she danced. Her smile and laugh also showed how much fun she was having. A few of her friends and their dates came to say hi, and they all danced in a group for a few songs.

Amanda, meanwhile, thought that Elijah looked very handsome. She always thought he looked nice, but he somehow looked better with a suit on. His tie even matched her dress, and she thought green suited him very well. He wasn't that good of a dancer, like most of the guys at their school, but he was trying his best, and having fun. He smiled at her, and while most would probably focus on his hearing aids, she always focused on his face.

An hour later, the DJ went on another break, leaving his music playing on auto while everyone took the time to relax and talk with one another. Friends talked about whatever dinners they had before the dance, some praising their date's wallets while others had nothing but complaints.

"My date took me to the most _romantic_ place," Sally Kinsley, one of Amanda's friend, informed them. "And expensive too; the whole meal probably cost $200 dollars!"

"Wow," Amanda said, trying to hide how much she didn't want to be talking with her, a false smile on her face. "We had a nice meal -"

"Though he didn't match my outfit," her friend continued, oblivious to how everyone around her truly felt. "I mean, his tie's _completely_ off! You're so lucky that Elijah knows his colors!"

"...Thanks," he said tentatively, unsure of what else to say, if he should have said anything at all.

"So you don't like him," Amanda asked.

"Oh no, he's super cute! He's getting us punch now." Fortunately, her date showed up, and they made their way to the side, probably so she could talk his ear off about how ties should match.

"I pity her date," Elijah said.

"Yeah, though I can only imagine what that dinner was like," Amanda said. The two friends exchanged a quick look, then laughed, both secretly thankful that their own meal went well.

"So... do you want some punch," he finally asked her, figuring she might be thirsty after all that dancing.

"I could use some," she agreed.

"Fine. I'll be right back." He made his way through the crowd, heading towards the snack table. There was no one at the punch bowl, so he was able to take two cups and take his time pouring the punch carefully so they didn't spill. As someone who rarely went to social events like this, he was having a great time. And Amanda seemed to be having fun too, and he was glad that nothing had gone wrong. After what happened on Halloween, he wanted her to have a normal night free of vengeful mutates and running for her life.

"Here," he said a few minutes later, handing her her cup of punch. They both took sips, right as the DJ returned, announcing a slow song. A slower song started to play, and most of the couples drifted back to the dance floor, putting their hands on each other's shoulders as they started to dance. A woman started singing, the lyrics being something about Heaven being a place on Earth.

"Wanna dance," she asked him, smiling a little.

The doubt entered his mind, stronger than ever, but he didn't want to say no. Everyone was going to dance, and he didn't want to ruin the moment. "S-Sure," he stammered, both of them setting their cups on the bleachers as they walked onto the gym floor. He awkwardly put his hands on her shoulders, and she did the same,, the two of them a foot apart as they swayed with the music.

_When you walk into the room_

_You pull me close and we start to move_

_And we're spinning with the stars above_

_And you lift me up in a wave of love_

"Thanks for taking me," Amanda said to him, the music low enough for them to talk. "I wasn't sure you were gonna say yes when I asked you... I've had a great time so far."

"Me too," he answered.

She looked at him. "Really?"

"Yeah... I mean... Dinner was nice," he said quickly, trying to think of something normal to say. "And this dance is pretty fun."

"I love this song," she said, smiling and closing her eyes for a few moments. "It's so... romantic."

The doubt took over the deaf teen's mind, and he quickly removed his hands from her shoulders, as if he had been burned. Her eyes opened, and she gave him a confused look.

"Elijah, what's -"

"I'm so sorry," Elijah said quietly, figuring he should say something before he lost his nerve and left the dance. "I shouldn't have gone out with you."

Amanda looked at him, surprised and hurt. "Why?"

"Because... I know why you asked me to the dance. I've tried denying it for weeks, but I think it's unfair for both of us if I don't say anything."

"Elijah -"

"I know you... _like_ me… I know you probably want to be more than normal friends, want us to be a couple and all that, and what I'm saying is that you deserve someone _normal._" She didn't say anything, a shocked look on her face, so he continued. "I'm already black, but I'm also deaf, and I'll be deaf for the rest of my life. I know you're still learning about Deaf Culture, but most deaf people don't date anyone who can hear. Some try, and it works out, but most hearing people don't want to be with someone who's disabled."

"Elijah..." she said gently, trying to take his hand, but he took a step back.

_In this world we're just beginning_

_To understand the miracle of living_

_Baby, I was afraid before_

_But I'm not afraid anymore_

"I'm already different from the majority of everyone on earth, and it's something I can't change. I..." He hesitated, but finally spoke his mind. "I like you too, but you deserve someone who won't bring any pain or trouble into your life… Someone who you don't have to defend in public or endure ridicule because they're different from you or people think they deserve pity, or spend years becoming fluent in a language when -"

Amanda stepped forward and kissed him, silencing his statement. He froze, his train of thought stopping in an instant. He had never kissed anyone before, but he quickly got over the unfamiliarity of it. It was like... a fire had suddenly been lit in his chest, burning like a blaze that would never go out.

_Ooh, baby, do you know what that's worth?_

_Ooh, heaven is a place on earth!_

_They say in heaven love comes first_

_We'll make heaven a place on earth!_

Seconds later, they broke apart, looking each other in the eye. His face was flushed, as was hers, but instead of being mad, he was as still as a statue, oblivious to the world around them.

"I don't care," she told him, her facial expression calm, but her voice was stern and adamant in her statement. "I don't care what color you are, I don't care that you can't hear what I'm saying right now without hearing aids, and I don't care what everyone else says about you or me. No one can tell us who we can and cannot be with, and if it means I have to make sacrifices to make it happen, then I'll do it. But I'm not gonna force you to like me or date me; we can just be friends if that's what you want… but I want you to know that I love you because I love who you are on the **inside.**"

Elijah was unsure of how he should respond, repeating her words in his head. He could imagine her voice saying those words, telling him that she could care less about his race or disability… she just liked _him._ She reminded him of June, but this was different; June saw him as a fellow deaf friend, but Amanda was someone he would consider normal. And she _liked_ him. Now the question remained: what would he do now? He looked back at Amanda, who was patiently waiting for him to respond.

"I… love you too," he finally said, and this time, he leaned in to kiss her. This one was somewhat better, since they were both expecting it, and Elijah was kind of sad when he broke away a few seconds later. Vaguely, he sensed some whispering around them, but for once, he didn't care. Let them talk about this, a deaf black dude kissing a white girl at the school dance.

All he could see was her.

"Thank you," he continued, "for telling me what I needed to hear."

Amanda smiled. "Always," she said, and putting their hands on each other's shoulders, they danced.

* * *

**Wow. This was... a very important and interesting chapter to write. **

**Teenage romances are kind of cliche in today's world, and most people, especially writers struggle with writing accurate relationships. I myself tried to do my best to make this an accurate portrayal, showing that in the months following Halloween, both Elijah and Amanda spent a lot of time together, had become good friends, and occasionally said things that made the other blush, as well as having him notice her appearance. Know that this won't turn into an immediate full-blown relationship; real relationships, especially new ones, take time, and both of them are in unknown territory, which is something that will be the backdrop of the stories to come.**

**Feel free to follow or favorite this story to be updated on new chapters, and feel free to leave a review on this chapter or others if you want. ****And, as usual, have a safe and happy week/weekend!**

**Quick PSA: _PLEASE __BE CAREFUL AND SAFE WHEN YOU GO OUTSIDE!_ Seriously, you guys are awesome, and while being stuck at home gives you more time to read fanfiction, it's not good for you or your loved ones. Keep yourselves and everyone else outside safe. Thank you.**

**-aggiefrogger**

**Note: I do NOT own Spinnin' N' Reelin', Creed Bratton, Heaven is a Place on Earth or Belinda Carlisle at all.**


	20. Chapter 20

**Hey everybody!**

**Well here it is, another chapter in the story, but it's a special one, since it's the start of _another_ multi-chapter story arc, similar to my earlier _Halloween_ arc. This one probably won't be as long, though, but it still has great action, drama, and introduces a whole lot of familiar characters from the _Gargoyles_ universe!**

**Enjoy!**

* * *

**Taken - Part One**

The news that Amanda Ross and Elijah Robbins were now a couple quickly circulated around Weisman High School the days following the Valentine's Day dance. Of course, the whisperings and the comments from the other students quickly situated, most of them centered around them getting together on Valentine's Day, but for once, Elijah wasn't annoyed or embarrassed.

He and Amanda started slowly; the school was strict with public displays of affection, and the most they could get away with was walking hand-in-hand through the hallways, and only with certain hall monitors present. They often went to the library after school [whenever Amanda didn't have work at Blockbuster], studying at the same table, simply enjoying the other's company. They were both fine with taking it slow, since neither of them had dated anyone before, and they worked their way up to hugging each other goodbye whenever it was time for them to go homes. Their first official date as a couple was to see the Special Edition re-release of _The Empire Strikes Back._

And, as it always goes, life went on. Elijah went to school, studied with Amanda, and hung out with the gargoyles just about every night. Life was good at the moment, and was showing no signs of getting worse.

[]

"So how're things going so far," Mason asked as he drove Elijah home after school one late February afternoon.

"With school," the teen asked. "Classes are okay. I've got a low B in Science, though."

The driver smirked. "You know what I mean. You and Amanda… things good so far?"

"I think so," Elijah said, readjusting his left hearing aid as he looked out the window; the road they were on went through a small part of a forest near Weisman, and at that time, had no other cars. "It's been about two weeks, and things seem to be going well so far."

"Oh, better be ready with a two-week anniversary gift," Mason warned him jokingly. "Girls love anniversaries."

"I don't think the single guy should be telling me how to have a good relationship," the deaf teen said, though secretly wondering if he _should_ get Amanda a gift for their two-week anniversary. "You're just as bad as Brooklyn and Huds-" He abruptly stopped talking, realizing he had said too much.

"Who," Mason asked.

"Uh... Just some friends from school," Elijah said quickly, hoping the man bought the lie. "They keep giving me advice on how to be a good boyfriend, too."

"What about your uncle? Any sage wisdom from one of the best bosses in the world?"

Elijah snickered at the obvious kiss-up. "He said he wanted to talk to me after school today, so I can only imagine what he's-"

Mason, despite all his Illuminati training, was suddenly caught off guard when a large grey blur came flying from off the side of the road, hitting the driver side window. Glass shattered, and he yelled, the car swerving off the side of the road and hitting a tree, bringing it to a jolting stop. Elijah screamed as well, the seatbelt slamming him back into his seat. The driver, once he got his bearings, reached for the hidden pistol in the center console, but someone grabbed him by the head, slamming him into the wheel and knocking him out. The teenager, dazed from the crash looked up as the door of his car was ripped open, gaping at the attacker.

Elijah had once seen some old movie about werewolves, and had made fun of how awful the makeup had looked at the time. Now, seeing one in person, he wished that monsters looked like bad movies from the fifties. The attacker looked humanoid, having the same build and number of limbs as a human, but that was where the similarities stopped. It was about the same height as Goliath, and was covered in grey fur from head to foot. It had claws on its fingers, had pointed ears, and a mouth full of sharp teeth. Naturally, the teen tried to back away from the monster, but it grabbed him by the shirt collar, using its claws to sever the seatbelt so it could drag him from the car.

"Ya better not be a screamer, kid," it said in a gravely voice, taking a cloth from its back pocket and pressing it over Elijah's nose and mouth. The teen tried to wriggle free, but he found himself growing tired, and he was fast asleep seconds later. "Let's hope you're a heavy sleeper, too."

Wolf looked back at the car, which was smoking a little from the impact. The driver was still unconscious, and the crash looked like a normal case of accidentally swerving off the road. However, the Illuminati would know the truth, meaning he had to leave, and soon. A truck was hidden in a clearing half a mile away for easier transport, and he had no intentions of being seen in broad daylight. Hefting the teen over his shoulder, the mutate trudged into the woods, vanishing from view.

[]

[]

_"He's made his move." _

_ "Crikey, already? He was broken out of prison __**two days**__ ago!"_

_ "Works fast, doesn't he?" _

_ "If only__** you**__ were as fast, Fang." _

_ "Watch it, Yama-hawk!" _

_ "Quiet, both of you!" _

_ INDEED. ARGUING IS NOT A GOOD WAY OF ACHIEVING LAW AND ORDER._

_ "Geez, does that thing have an Off button?" _

_ "Don't start on him ya lazy little-" _

_ "When you three are finished arguing, we have a job to do. Local police forces indicate that a child was taken after Wolf attacked the car. The driver was knocked out when someone drove by, but woke up by the time police arrived. Said it was some 'werewolf' creature, and they checked him for concussions." _

_ "Neveh knew Wolf would finally stoop so low ta kidnappin' ankle-biters." _

_ "Who did he take, Hunter?" _

_ "Fifteen-year-old Elijah Robbins. Nephew of one Jeffrey Robbins." _

_ "The author?" _

_ "Ys. Moved up to New York from Texas about eight months ago, was on his way home from school when he was abducted." _

_ "Why's this our problem? Can't the police handle finding another missing kid?" _

_ "Ya don't know Wolf like I do. Ever since he went and got that mutate formula, he became less… __**human,**__ I guess ya could say. Prison records indicate he was increasingly violent every time he was incarcerated once again, so the kid is probably in big danger." _

"_Especially since someone went through the trouble to break him out of prison." _

"_Yes, __**thank ya**__ for that, Fearless Leader." _

"_Watch yourself, Dingo. Remember what happened the last time you called me that?" _

"_**I **__do! Your voice went __**so**__ high when she kicked ya in the-" _

"_Can we __**please**__ just focus on finding Elijah? To take and possibly harm a child… only monsters do that." _

"_Then Wolf's a perfect example." _

"_And the Director is certain that there may be Illuminati hands in this. Or maybe Thailog. It's up to us to free the boy and find out from Wolf who freed him and asked him to kidnap this boy. Understand?" _

"_..." _

"_A 'yes, ma'am' will suffice." _

"_Don't push it, sheillah."_

_THEN WE MUST GET GOING, FOR THE SAKE OF LAW AND ORDER._

[]

[]

When the gargoyles arrived at the Robbins residence an hour after sunset, they were immediately shocked to see two squad cars parked in the driveway. Brooklyn, Goliath, and Nashville landed in the shadows, wondering what had happened.

"Were they robbed," Nashville whispered. "Human show up when there's a crime, right?"

"Or an emergency," Brooklyn whispered. "Maybe Jeffrey got hurt or sick; he's not exactly a young human."

"But then an ambulance would be here," Goliath pointed out. "And Elijah would know to come outside and wait for us-" He stopped talking when two officers walked out the back door, followed by the blind author. They talked for a few minutes, then the officers left, the cars driving up the road towards Weisman. As soon as they were gone, the three gargoyles glided down towards the man, who turned at the sound of their landing.

"Elijah's been kidnapped," Jeffrey said, unable to see the gargoyles' shocked expressions. "Mason was driving him home when some..._thing _attacked the car and ran it off the road. It knocked him out and then took Elijah."

"The police believed this," Brooklyn asked, trying to keep his growing anger under control.

"No, he was sent off to the hospital to be checked for a concussion, but I have no doubts about his story. Elijah didn't just wander off on his own; someone took him."

"Did he get a look at what attacked the vehicle," Goliath questioned.

"He did. Said it looked like a werewolf or something-"

_"Wolf,"_ the red gargoyle gasped, eyes widening with surprise. "Xanatos told us yesterday that he had been broken out of prison earlier this week!"

"Who's Wolf," Nashville asked.

"A former member of _The Pack,_ and a mutate."

"Oh… like Derek and the others in the Labyrinth?"

"No. His DNA was combined with that of a wolf. He is strong, and a formidable opponent; Hudson and I were barely able to stop him the last time the two of us fought him."

"And now he has Elijah," Brooklyn said angrily, his one eye momentarily glowing with rage. "Why? No one knows that we're friends with Elijah besides Xanatos-"

"But why would he help break Wolf out of prison and have him kidnap Elijah," Jeffrey questioned, a more calm and thoughtful on his face. "He has nothing to gain, and he has already proven himself to be our ally."

"It does not make any sense," Goliath agreed.

"What if Elijah wasn't the target," Nashville suggested. The three adults turned to him, surprised at the suggesting. "I mean, what if Wolf wanted someone else but had to take Elijah because he was there at the wrong time?"

"But who would he-" Brooklyn turned to the blind author. "Mr. Robbins-"

"Wolf may have learned of my friendship with Mr. Xanatos," Jeffrey suggested, "but it still doesn't explain who broke Wolf out of prison, and why he took Elijah if I was his target. I was alone here all day; he could have easily taken me without drawing any attention to himself." Gilly whimpered, the German Shepherd nudging her head against the author's leg. "You will look for him?"

"Of course," Goliath said. "Call Elisa and tell her to the inform the others of what's happened."

"And make sure Katana knows Nashville is with me," Brooklyn added. "Where was the accident; we might find something the police missed."

"About two miles Northwest of here. It's on the old Highway 20 road that goes through the woods." The gargoyle spread his wings, running towards the nearby wall so he could catch a good air drift that would allow him to glide there. Brooklyn was about to follow when he hesitated, noticing the author's worried expression. It was so unlike the calm and kind face he was used to, and his anger dissipated as he put a hand on the man's shoulder.

"We'll find him," he promised. "And we'll bring him back safe and sound."

"I know you will," Jeffrey said. Nodding, Brooklyn turned to his son, the two of them racing after Goliath.

[]

Elijah had stopped trying to escape an hour or so after he woke up in a cell. Now, he simply sat in the corner, waiting for something to happen.

The cell was square, maybe four meters each side, and had one wall made of glass, the others being brick. The glass side looked out into a hallway with other similar-looking cells, all of them empty. There was no door that the teen could see, and he quickly learned that the glass was too thick to break. There was a small bunk in the corner, along with a toilet, but other than that, the cell was bare.

He had no idea how long it had been since he had been kidnapped, but figured it had to be night time by now [if it was even the same day]. That would mean the gargoyles would show up at his house, learn from his uncle what had happened, and would come to rescue him… as soon as they found out where he was. The deaf teen himself had no idea where he was, and tried not to think about how long it would take his friends to figure out who had taken him, and where.

Elijah thought over the events in his mind. He was in the car, thinking about his homework and Amanda and what movie he, Brooklyn and Nashville would watch that night; it was an ordinary afternoon. Then, the sound of breaking glass, the car swerving off the road, a heavy thud as the car hit a tree, looking up to see a werewolf [during the day, which shouldn't be possible], and then… he was waking up in this cell with a horrible headache. At least he still had his hearing aids, which he played with to pass the time, turning the volume up and down as he waited for whatever was going to happen to happen.

Somewhere down the hall, a door opened, and the teen looked up, startled by the sudden noise after hours of silence. He stood up when he heard footsteps coming towards him, backing away from the glass wall. Seconds later, the wolf-man appeared on the other side of the door, a gun in his hand.

"Good; makes my job easier," it said, hitting some kind of button on the outside wall. The glass wall slid upwards into the ceiling, explaining where the door to the cell was. "Now come with me; someone wants ta meet ya."

"W-W-Who," Elijah stammered.

The creature growled, making the deaf teen flinch. "I'm not a very patient guy, so when I say come with me, I mean _**now.**_" Elijah didn't need to be told twice. Quickly leaving the cell, he felt his kidnapper press the barrel of the gun to his back instructing him to walk down the hallway. He naturally complied, trying not to freak out or do anything that could get him killed as he walked past the other empty cells, finally exiting into a long, dark hallway that ran perpendicular to the row of cells.

"Right," the wolf-dude ordered, and Elijah turned right, walking down the hallway. They walked for several more minutes, the kidnapper giving him the occasional order to turn into another hallway. Finally, they stopped outside the door, and the teen was ordered to open it.

They walked into what looked like a science lab; various tables with complicated equipment sat in a circle around a solitary lab table, this one covered in various notes and test tubes of liquids. A man in a white coat stood with his back to the door, reading the plans.

"Thank you, Wolf," he said, not looking back at them. "Don't leave just yet; we don't want our guest trying to escape."

_Wolf,_ the teen thought, the name clicking in his mind. The Pack… mechanical and genetic upgrades… did that mean this man was-

"Sevarius," Elijah muttered.

The man turned around, revealing a middle-aged face with a wide grin. "Excellent guess work, young man," he said, like a teacher congratulating a student on getting the right answer to a question. "No doubt those gargoyles have told you all about me and my associate here."

"Wolf," the teen said, not looking back at the criminal mutate. "Why did you have him kidnap me?"

"I think you know why, or did your friends not inform you of my… _special_ interests in the field of genetics," Dr. Sevarius said, turning back to the table and picking up a test tube. "I wanted to test a hypothesis of mine; how would my regular genetic mutation formula work on an individual with a disability? I considered your uncle for a while, ever since I learned he was friends with Xanatos, but when I heard about _you,_ young man." He turned back towards Elijah with an evil smile. "You make a _much_ better subject than that stuffy old author!"

"That's my uncle you're talking about, you-" He felt the barrel of the gun now touch the back of his head, and his retort died mid-sentence. His hear was pounding with fear, hoping and praying that the gargoyles would show up and rescue him.

"Careful with him, Wolf," the scientist chastised. "I don't want him damaged."

"Yes, sir," the mutate replied, a bit of edge in his voice; it was apparent that he was not a friend of the mad scientist.

"I suppose, if you could talk, you would ask me to let you go," Sevarius rationalized, carefully pouring the contents of the test tube into a syringe. "I _do_ plan on letting you go, but only after you get one, quick shot." He turned back to the deaf teen, now holding a syringe of green liquid. "Imagine that it's a shot you would get at the doctors. Except this one is made with the DNA of a bat, electric eel, and other zoo of animals. If my theory is correct, you will become a powerful mutate. If not… well, let's just say that we already have a hole dug out back." He nodded at Wolf.

"NO-" The gun fell to the floor as the mutate criminal grabbed him, one hand pinning his arms down while the other covered the teen's mouth, silencing his cries. He tried to break free but Wolf was too strong, and Sevarius was approaching at a leisurely pace, unfazed by Elijah's terrified expression and muffled yelling. Elijah remembered the stories the gargoyles had told him about the mad scientist; how he used mutation formulas to transform humans into monstrous creatures against his will, creating the Labyrinth Mutates like Fang and Elisa's brother, as well as Wolf. Naturally, the teen didn't want to be turned into a hybrid creature, but could only watch as the scientist reached him, using an antiseptic wipe to clean his arm before he could insert the needle.

_Please God, help me,_ the teen thought desperately, right as something big and with wings crashed through the skylight window overhead.

* * *

**And that's it for this chapter! Elijah's been kidnapped by Wolf and Sevarius, and a mysterious group of individuals is planning on rescuing him. Sounds like the recipe for an interesting next few chapters! Thanks for reading, and have a great day/weekend!**

**Note: I do not own Blockbuster, Star Wars, The Empire Strikes Back, or Gargoyles at all.**


	21. Chapter 21

**Hello everyone! **

**I hope everyone's doing okay right now. As promised, here's part two of the current Taken arc, in which a whole lot of conflicts and other cool stuff is set up. **

**Enjoy!**

* * *

**Taken - Part Two**

The sudden figure breaking through the window startled the two villains. When Wolf's grip slackened, Elijah threw his elbow back, hitting him in the chest so he. The mutate howled with anger and let him go, the teen running away and throwing himself behind a nearby lab table as glass rained down from above.

"What the- _YOU,_" Wolf roared, followed by the sound of glass beakers breaking; apparently, the gargoyles had attacked Wolf and had tackled him. Elijah had no idea what had happened to Sevarius [he could have sworn he saw the man bolt for the door], but he figured that the gargoyles would catch him quickly. He was about to stand up when he heard someone he didn't recognize.

"Where'd he go," someone yelled, and the teen froze, not recognizing the voice. This was a woman's voice, but it didn't sound like Angela or Elisa. Her accent was Scottish, like Hudson's, and Elijah started to wonder if it was the gargoyles that had shown up. This was confirmed seconds later when someone replied.

"I do not know," a calm voice answered. "I believe our Dr. Sevarius may have escaped."

"No shit, Yama," a brash voice said, and this was one the teen vaguely recognized, but couldn't place. "Someone wanna help me keep Wolfie down?"

I'VE GOT HIM, a metallic voice said, almost like a talking robot. There was the sound of a brief struggle, then silence. HE IS NOW UNCONSCIOUS.

"Where's the kid," a male Australian voice asked, making Elijah flinch. Whoever these people were, they weren't the gargoyles; for all he knew, these could also be bad guys that were trying to kidnap him too. Not wanting to stick around, he started to crawl across the floor, heading for the nearest exit.

SCANNING THE ROOM. The deaf teen crawled faster, getting closer to the door. HE IS FOUR METERS NORTHEAST OF HERE. COORDINATES ARE-

"We should be fine," the Scottish woman said. "Let's find him and get out of here."

Realizing he had moments to act, Elijah jumped to his feet and ran for the door. He heard a few surprised shouts but ignored them, bursting through the door and racing down the hallway. It turned right a few yards ahead of him, and the teen ran past identical doors, trying to find a way out of the place. Or maybe find a phone, call his uncle or Elisa Maza. He tried one of the random doors, closing it behind him and catching his breath.

"Yes," he muttered, looking around and realizing he was in an office of some kind. A phone sat on the desk, and he rushed over to it, typing in his uncle's number. It went straight to voice mail, which didn't make sense; surely his uncle would be worried about him-

_Unless he's been taken too,_ Elijah thought, horrified at the thought. Hanging up the call, he started to type in Elisa Maza's number, hoping she wasn't on duty and could answer. The phone ringed a few times, and then-

_"Hello?" _

"Miss Maza," the deaf teen asked, relief breaking over him like a dam. "Thank God you picked up!"

_"Elijah,"_ the detective asked, sounding shocked. _"Is that you? Are you okay?!" _

"Yes! I was kidnapped by Wolf, and Dr. Sevarius is here and I don't know what's going on and I -"

_"Woah, slow down! Keep calm, and tell me everything you can." _

"Okay. I was riding home with-"

The line suddenly went dead, silencing the teen's explanation. Frowning, he looked down at the phone, hitting the receiver button and trying to figure out what happened. Desperate, he even followed the cord off to the side, confused even more when he saw it plugged in.

SORRY ABOUT THAT.

Elijah yelped, whirling around and dropping the phone. At first, he didn't see anyone behind him, but then he looked down to find a sliver puddle on the floor of the room. He paused, unsure of what the metallic puddle was or how it got there, then gasped as the puddle suddenly moved by itself, forming into the shape of a human being. It had no face, and stood upright; it almost reminded him of an alien creature.

WE CANNOT ALLOW YOU TO TALK TO ANYONE AT THE MOMENT, the silver thing said in the familiar robotic voice from the lab. YOU ARE IN DANGER, AND MUST COME WITH US.

Elijah screamed, grabbing a heavy book off the desk and chucking it at the metal man. Instead of hitting it, it sank into the silver skin, as if it were still made of liquid. The silver man looked down at his chest, then back at Elijah. Suddenly, the door behind the man was flung open, and the teen screamed again as four more figures ran into the room.

The first was a woman. She wore some sort of black outfit with plates of armor on the shoulders and legs. Her long blonde hair was tied back in a ponytail, and she sore a mask over her eyes; it was a black piece of fabric with three red slashes across them. Two pistols hung from her belt, and though her hands were empty, she had an air of someone being extremely skilled at fighting.

The second person was a gargoyle, surprisingly. It wasn't one Elijah recognized, however; this one had grey skin and wore a black kimono. The gargoyle held two long swords, similar to what Katana used, and his long black hair rivaled that of Goliath's. Despite knowing about the existence of gargoyles, the teen couldn't help but flinch, frightened of the winged creature.

The third person was another human, this one male. He looked like a professional fighter, with large muscles and a frown to match. However, the most noticeable thing about him was his hair; he had a combination mullet and mohawk, a long trail of hair hanging behind him. He was dressed similarly to the woman, minus the mask, and held a gun in his hand.

The last individual was someone Elijah recognized, and realized was the owner of the voice he had heard earlier. The arrival of the final group member also confirmed that these were bad guys, and the teen grabbed a stapler from the desk behind him, chucking it at the mutate. It actually hit the cougar-like creature on the head, making him yelp with pain.

"OW," Fang complained, rubbing his head. "What was that for?!"

"You probably earned it," the gargoyle said.

"G-Get away from me," Elijah yelled, grabbing a pair of scissors and getting ready to throw it. "I'm not gonna be kidnapped again!"

"Calm down," the woman said, holding up her hands. "We're not here to hurt ye!"

"Don't lie to me! If you're with _him,_" the teen said, pointing at the mutate, "then you're clearly not the good guys!" The woman sighed, and the group turned to look at Fang, who suddenly looked like a deer in the headlights.

"Don't look at me like that," he snapped. "I don't know this kid!"

"Oh really," Elijah asked. "Halloween last year? You tried to kill me and my friends!"

_"Really,"_ the mohawk man asked, revealing himself to be the Australian. "Ya tried to kill a _kid?_"

"I'm honestly not that surprised," the gargoyle quipped.

"I never tried to-" The mutate frowned, as if trying to remember, and then his face brightened. "Oh yeah! He was with a gargoyle and some chick; I was sent to scare 'em a little bit. No big deal."

"Last I recall, you said you were there to kill Brooklyn," the teen countered. "And you nearly killed me!"

"Okay, let's all calm down now," the woman said, clearly the leader of the group. She just had the aura of one who was confident and knew how to take charge. She took a cautious step forward, still holding her hands up. "Yes, we all know Fang isn't exactly a model citizen-"

_"Hey,"_ Fang whined.

"-But he's not the bad guy, nor are any of us," the woman continued. "We're here to rescue ye from Sevarius."

"Besides," the Australian man added, "if we wanted to kidnap ya, we woulda done so already."

The woman turned and glared at him. "Not helping!"

"Oh I'm _sorry,_ fearless leader," he countered. "He's not five years old! He can clearly handle the truth; there's no way he could take us on with a bleedin' pair of cutters!"

"You are familiar with gargoyles, are you not," the gargoyle asked Elijah, sheathing his swords, his voice calm and clear.

"No," the teen said evenly, still not sure if he could trust these people.

"C'mon, kid! Don't lie about this," Fang said. "Remember I was there last Halloween, and know what actually happened! You were there with a gargoyle!"

"And my girlfriend pepper-sprayed your ass," Elijah stated.

The group of could-be villains had the strangest reaction to this piece of news. All of them, with the exception of Fang and the silver man, started laughing, losing composure as they howled with laughter. It surprised the deaf teen, watching these clearly well-trained adults laughing at their friend being pepper sprayed. For some reason, it put Elijah a little at ease, but he was still unsure about the group.

"It isn't _that_ funny," Fang muttered unhappily, glaring daggers at the deaf teen. "And if I remember correctly, I just about cooked your goose last time." He held up a clawed hand, which cackled with electricity. "Ready for round two?"

"None of that," the woman snapped, no longer laughing. Her harsh glare made the mutate wilt a little, and he lowered his hand. "We're here to rescue him, not hurt him."

"How watery did his eyes get," the Australian asked, snickering a little.

"Are you supposed to be professionals or something," Elijah questioned.

"We _are,_" the woman explained. "We're the _Redemption Squad."_

"I never agreed on that name," Fang muttered.

"And as for us being bad guys, you're not far off," the woman continued. "We're all reformed, now working for-"

LAW AND ORDER, the silver person finished. I AM MATRIX, AN ARTIFICIAL INTELLIGENCE.

"Okay… what are you made of," the teen questioned.

"Nanorobots," the Australian explained. "Billions of tiny robots workin' together to do just about anything; we usually work together during battles. I'm Dingo, by the way."

"Dingo… wait, weren't you on that TV show-"

"Yeah," the man interrupted bitterly. "I'm sure your gargoyle friends told you all about me."

"Well Goliath said you became good," the teen said, racking his brains to remember the details of the story. "You helped save the world."

The Australian looked surprised. "He said that," he asked.

"Yeah." Elijah turned to the silvery man. "And is he the AI that nearly destroyed the world?"

YES, BUT SINCE I WORK FOR THE SAKE OF LAW AND ORDER, DESTRUCTION OF THIS WORLD CANNOT BE ALLOWED, Matrix said.

"You already know Fang," the woman spoke up, the mutate and deaf teen exchanging dark looks. "This here is Yama of the Ishimura Clan."

"Ishimura," Elijah asked, recognizing the name. He hesitated, trying to recall what to say. "Uh… よろしく?" The gargoyle's eyes widened with surprise, and it was apparent that he had said the right thing. He started to speak in rapid-fire Japanese, but the teen held up his hands. "I don't know that much; I'm still learning."

"Oh. But it is still impressive," Yama said, bowing slightly towards him. "I do not know of many humans outside of Japan that know the language."

"_I_ did," the woman grumbled.

"Ya can't speak Japanese with _that_ accent," Dingo said, rolling his eyes at the glare she gave him.

"One of my friends married someone from the Ishimura clan," Elijah explained. "I mean, _technically_ she was born over 400 years ago, so their Japanese probably isn't that accurate to today's language, but their son's teaching me Japanese while I teach him ASL in return." The Redemption Squad blinked at him, confused and surprised expressions on their faces.

_"What,"_ Fang finally asked.

"It's time travel… and a long story."

"That makes sense," Yama nodded.

"No it _doesn't,_" the mutate complained, more to himself.

"My apologies. I'll make it simpler for you to understand."

"Why you horned little -"

"I'm Hunter," the woman said quickly, probably to prevent another fight. "And you're Elijah Robbins, Jeffry Robbins' nephew."

"How did you know-" the teen started to ask.

"Again, we're here to rescue ye," she explained. "We're going to take ye to our safe house in New York City-"

"Wait, you're not taking me home," Elijah interrupted. "Why not? My uncle might have been taken too, and if he's here-"

"Your uncle is fine," Hunter assured him. "And right now, we can't risk whoever hired Sevarius and Wolf to try to kidnap ye again."

"Can I call and let him know I'm okay?"

"That wouldn't be smart," Dingo said. "Your uncle's blind, right? Lives alone?" The teen nodded. "We don't know if his phone's been bugged; you call him, someone can track our location."

"When would anyone bug his phones," Elijah asked, becoming more exasperated by the second. "He's not even that famous!"

"I know, but we didn't know that Sevarius was involved in this, and whenever he's involved, ye can't take any chances," Hunter said. A sympathetic look crossed her face. "Look, we're going to do our best to get you home as soon as possible. We just have to capture Sevarius first; no telling what he wanted to do with you."

"He wanted to make me a mutate," the teen said, flinching at the memory. "He had this syringe of something… He said he wanted to see how his mutagen would affect someone with a disability."

"Your ears," Fang said suddenly. "You had these machines in your ears… you deaf or something?"

"Yes," the teen said shortly, still disliking the winged mutate. "Sevarius said he was going to transform my uncle, but he decided I would be easier and more interesting to work with."

"Any reason he would have chosen your uncle or yourself," Yama asked.

"He said it would get back at Xanatos more-"

"Xanatos," Dingo interrupted, a frown on his face. "Why am I not surprised that _he's_ a part of this?"

"Yeah. My uncle is friends with him, so I guess he thought he'd be someone he could attack more easily than Xanatos. Maybe he even figured it was a way to get back at Xanatos or something." The teen finally set down the scissors; he doubted he could do much damage with it anyway. "I hope you guys are good at finding criminals; I've got school tomorrow."

"I thought kids hated school," Fang said.

"I want to grow up _smart,_ thank you."

"I like him," Yama said, smiling a little. "He's very intelligent."

"Screw you," the mutate snapped, flipping him the bird.

"Can ye boys stop messing around and get back to business," Hunter asked. "We need to get out of here. Matrix, is Wolf still incapacitated?"

YES.

"We'll interrogate him for information. Dingo, want to take the lead with him?"

"Like he'll talk to me," the Australian said. "We didn't exactly part on good terms."

"_I'll_ do it then," she replied, rolling her eyes. Elijah noticed that there was clear tension and conflict between Hunter and Dingo; he probably wanted to be leader or something. They bickered like an old married couple, and the teen couldn't help but feel sorry for the others [even Fang] for having to deal with them 24/7.

"Can we leave now," the teen asked. "And will this safe house have a TV; I don't wanna miss _Murder, She Wrote._"

"I like that show," Dingo said, grinning at the teen. "That Angela Lansbury's a real gem!"

"Okay," Hunter said, looking torn between laughing at Dingo and throttling him. "Let's go."

[]

"There's nothing else here," Nashville complained, kicking a stray rock aside. "We've been here for half an hour!"

Brooklyn, Goliath and Nashville were currently by the side of the road where Elijah was abducted, looking for any clues. So far, they had found nothing, and the humans had cleaned up any debris that had been there earlier. The only thing they managed to find were tracks leading off towards a clearing in the woods, and tire tracks leading off towards a back road. If Wolf went that way, then he could be anywhere by now; the back road led up to the main road a mile north, and if Elijah was taken hours ago…

"When I get my hands on Wolf," Brooklyn said angrily.

"You know that is not a wise decision," Goliath reminded him. "And immediate violence is not something you want to teach you child."

The red gargoyle sighed, looking at his son, who was out of earshot, drawing something in the dirt with the tip of his sword. "You're right, Goliath." He raised his voice. [And you better clean off your sword when you're finished!] Nashville straightened up at the command, wiping the blade with his shirt.

"I just can't believe that this would happen," Brooklyn continued, turning back to Goliath. "Do you ever think that it's our fault that the humans close to us get in danger?"

"I wouldn't go as far as to say that," Goliath replied. "It is probably a coincidence that Wolf happened to kidnap him. We have no proof of any other foul play."

"Cool," Nashville said, picking something up off the ground. "Look at this!" The two adult gargoyles walked over to him, and the blue gargoyle held up a small gold coin. One one side was lettering in an unfamiliar language, the other had a picture of a laurel leaf on it. "This doesn't look like any human money I've ever seen."

"Indeed it isn't," Goliath said, taking the coin and looking closely at it. "It looks familiar…"

In the distance, a whirring noise came from overhead, as if a small plane was approaching. It was getting closer, and the three gargoyles quickly backed into a nearby patch of bushes, unsure of what was approaching. When the flying machine appeared, Goliath stood up, shocked by what he saw.

It looked almost like a chariot, except it wasn't being pulled by a horse, and had a sleek futuristic design. Small rocket engines on the side kept the vehicle hovering above the ground, but it then slowly landed on the street, its driver stepping out and looking around.

"Woah," Nashville whispered. "What _is_ that?"

"I can't believe it," Goliath whispered. He stepped out of the bushes, walking towards the alien figure. "Taurus?"

The figure turned around, a surprised expression coming over his face when he saw the gargoyle. He was a towering, hulking figure in red and gold armor, and a helm on his head. He had humanoid limbs, save for the head of a bull, cloven feet, and two large horns coming out of his head.

"Goliath," the minotaur asked, gaping at him. "What are you doing here? Are you tracking Proteus too?"

"No. My friends and I were looking for a missing friends of ours." Brooklyn and Nashville stepped out of the bushes. "This is my second-in-command, Brooklyn, and his son Nashville. This is Taurus, the Chief of Security on New Olympus."

"New Olympus," Brooklyn asked. "Where's that?"

"None of your business," the bull-man said a little harshly. "We still wish to keep our existence a secret from humanity. I see, Goliath, by your friends' surprised expressions, that you did not tell them about your time on New Olympus. I thank you for keeping your word."

"Of course," Goliath said. "But why are you here in New York? I thought New Olympians preferred to keep to themselves."

"Proteus escaped from prison," Taurus explained, taking a small hand-held device from his belt. "I tracked him here, but I lost the trail. New Olympians give off a certain aura that I can track using this device. I picked up a small signal while flying over head, and thought he might be here."

"Do you mean this coin is from this New Olympus place," Nashville asked, pointing to the coin in Goliath's hand.

"That is a New Olympian coin," the minotaur confirmed. "But what is this about your missing friend?"

"Our friend Elijah was abducted this afternoon," Brooklyn explained. "An old enemy of ours broke out of prison and took him. We were hoping to find some clues as to where he's been taken."

The New Olympian looked deep in thought. "Proteus is a shape-shifter," he said. "This enemy of your could have been Proteus in disguise, but then again, he could be any living creature on Earth. I find it troubling that Proteus was here, at the same spot of your friend's abduction."

"Is Proteus super evil or something," Nashville asked.

"He murdered my father," Taurus said darkly. "If he has your friend, then he is in grave danger."

Brooklyn and Goliath exchanged worried looks. "We need to find Proteus," Goliath said. "Is there any way you can make your device strong enough to track him within the state?"

"I'm afraid not. Our technology is advance, but I do not have the proper materials to do so."

"Dammit," Brooklyn muttered. Then, he straightened up. "But I know someone who will."

[]

"You didn't have to pull me out of there," Mason said angrily. "I had it all under control!"

"We needed it to look like that Sevarius had taken you as well," the Illuminati head explained, the two of them currently in a safehouse in Queens. "Don't worry, the boy will be fine, but it will send a message to Xanatos. He will know that people are after the Fourth Eye of Mab, and will go to make sure that it is properly secured."

"Has the Illuminati ever done this much against one of its own members," Mason asked.

The man gave him a small frown. "None of that, Thirteen. We are still his allies, but something of that immense power should not be in the hands of a single member; it should belong to the Society as a whole."

The agent was a little annoyed by this, not liking the decision that the higher numbers were making. However, he was bound to obey, and he nodded. "Fine. When do I return to the Robbins?"

"You will be going to where Dr. Sevarius currently has Elijah," the other member said. "When it is time for the gargoyles to find them, they will find you too."

The door opened off to the side, and another member rushed in. "We have trouble," he gasped. "Sevarius has fled and Wolf is gone; surveillance shows a strike group attacking the hideout."

_"What,"_ Mason asked, a pang of fear in his chest. He wasn't supposed to get attached to anyone, but he was worried for Elijah's safety.

"It was that group from Eastcheap Isle," the Illuminati agent continued. "They took the boy."

Mason jumped to his feet, but the older Illuminati member remained calm. "An unseen difficulty, but one we could perhaps make the most of," he said. "Any other news?"

"Yes." The third agent looked over at Mason. "According to police records, you just gave a statement to the Weisman Police department an hour ago."

Mason blinked with surprise. "That's impossible," he said. "I've been here the whole time!"

"Then who was it," the agent asked. "They had your wallet, apparently."

"No. My wallet's right-" The agent felt his coat pocket, his face going pale as he felt nothing but an empty pocket. To be sure, he checked all his pockets, taking off his coat to make sure he had not missed it. "... Shit."

[]

Proteus was released from the human hospital, still in his human disguise.

It had been a crazy stroke of luck that he was hiding in the woods when those two humans were attacked by that wolf creature. It had taken the younger human, the other one waking up a few minutes later, walking up the road and away from the scene. Seeing the opportunity, the New Olympian criminal had quickly changed his appearance, climbing into the vehicle before the human security forces appeared. He had found the man's identification on the ground nearby, and was able to quickly figure out who he was to pretend to be. It helped that the man was just in an accident; any confusion was chalked up to a concussion.

"Ah…" Proteus sighed, looking around the primitive human town, wondering where he should go next. He was in the mood to cause some trouble, and was about to look for someplace to do so when a red car pulled up in front of him, the driver rolling down her window. The driver looked vaguely familiar to the criminal, but he could not place her.

"Mason," the woman said. "Come with me. We just got a call from Elijah; he seems to be alright, but he's still missing."

Immediately recognizing that this woman knew him, and that Elijah was someone he was supposed to care about, the New Olympian immediately put on a worried expression. "Really," he asked. "When?"

"Half an hour ago," she said, unlocking the car doors. "Get in; we're going to the Robbins house until all this chaos is over."

Proteus smiled internally, though he still pretended to look worried on the outside. _It is only about to begin,_ he thought, opening the door and climbing into the car.

* * *

**Yes, I know that the third season of Gargoyles [which we do not talk about] did a whole Taurus and Proteus storyline where Taurus has to capture Proteus, but I couldn't help but wonder what would happen if I put my own spin on it. The third season is considered garbage by most people, but I figured that this particular scenario would work with what I have planned later on for this story. I hope those of you that think that this new addition to the storyline is a cop out will give it a chance.**


	22. Chapter 22

**Hey everyone!**

**I hope you all are doing well! For those in the States, a Happy Early Thanksgiving! For everyone everywhere, good fortune to you all!**

**Here is part three of my Taken storyline. I'm glad that so many of you like it so far, based on PMs I've received, and so far, it's been an interesting adventure to write since it involves both the Redemption Squad and the New Olympians - two of my favorite groups in the entire series.**

**Enjoy this next chapter, and have a great day/weekend!**

**Note: **All conversations in **Bold** are translated from Japanese. Also warning for some language.

* * *

**Taken - Part Three**

"I am still not sure that going to the home of a human is a wise decision," Taurus said, steering his flying chariot through the air as the gargoyles glided next to him. "Even if you claim he is trustworthy, there is still the chance that he will tell someone about me."

"Not Robbins," Goliath assured him. "We would trust him with our lives."

"Plus he's blind," Nashville added. "So it's not like he'll know you're a giant bull man."

"Nashville," Brooklyn chided. His son had a mouth, like he did when he was younger, and wondered how Goliath and Hudson had restrained themselves from strangling him.

Gilly barked at the back door as they landed, Taurus landing his chariot in the shadows off to the side. Seconds later, the blind author appeared at the back door.

"Hello," he called out. "Who's there?"

"Mr. Robbins," Brooklyn replied. "We have some news."

The man opened the sliding back door. "You didn't find him," the author stated, a somber expression on his face. "And the police still have no clue to his whereabouts."

"But we found someone who could help," Goliath said as Taurus cautiously approached the group. "And old friend of mine, Taurus, may be able to help us find him."

"It is… nice to meet you," the minotaur said slowly, giving Jeffrey Robbins a wary look. Goliath remembered the prejudice New Olympians carried towards humans, though he knew that Taurus had learned to tolerate Elisa during their time on the hidden island. "Goliath has informed me that your nephew is missing."

"He was kidnapped," the author agreed, not asking any questions as to who Taurus was. "Did you find any clues?"

"Yes," Brooklyn said. "We found a coin from Ne- Taurus' home, and it turns out that he's looking for someone. He's a… police officer, of sorts."

"Elijah's been kidnapped by another criminal besides Wolf," Robbins asked.

"His name is Proteus," the minotaur explained. "He…" He sighed, clearly trying to figure out a way to not reveal too much about his home. "He is good at making himself look like others. He may have impersonated this Wolf character."

The blind man sighed, clearly tired and looking shaken. "So… we have no leads of any kind," he asked, his voice hollow and defeated.

"Taurus can track him," Nashville blurted out. "He's got this fancy device that could help us-"

"Be quiet, child," Taurus snapped, glaring at the youngest gargoyle. "Do not make me arrest you too."

"I won't let you," Brooklyn said, his good eye glowing. "And I would refrain from threatening a child around me, especially my son." The minotaur and gargoyle stared one another down for a few moments, but then Goliath intervened.

"Calm down, both of you," he said. "Right now, we should be focused on finding Elijah and Proteus." He turned to Brooklyn. "You said you know someone who could help?"

"Yes." The one-eyed gargoyle turned to Robbins. "We need to get Lex here; he's a whiz at gadgets, and can probably rig Taurus' track to find Proteus. We can call Elisa and-"

"Elisa left about twenty minutes ago," Jeffrey informed them, fortunately not questioning who Taurus was or how he knew the gargoyles. "She went to go pick up Mason from the hospital. They should be back in a short while."

"We'll call Xanatos, then."

"I thought you said to never go straight to Xanatos unless we have no other choice," Nashville asked.

"We're going to ask him to send Lex over here, though I have no doubt that he's going to be curious as to why."

"This Xanatos seems untrustworthy to me," Taurus said. "I am not sure if we should inform him of our situation."

"If we wait for Elisa, then we have to wait for her to drive back to New York and get Lex. That'll take nearly an hour, and who knows how far away Proteus will be by then."

At that moment, the library phone rang behind the blind author. He turned quickly, nearly tripping over Gilly in his haste. He reached the phone, picking it up. "Hello? Mason?" The gargoyles couldn't hear what the other person was saying, but they could see the blind man's face become surprised, then confused before he abruptly hung up the phone.

"What happened," Goliath asked. "Was that Mason? Is he out of the hospital?"

"Yes, but… he said he was in New York City," Jeffrey said numbly. "He… He said he woke up in a cell with his wallet missing, and he couldn't find Elijah. Somehow he escaped, found a phone and…" He looked in the general direction of the group. "If Mason's in New York, who did the police find at the wreckage, and who is Elisa going to pick up?"

Brooklyn was the first to figure it out. "Shit," he yelled, briskly turning and running outside. "We have to go, now!"

"What;s going on," Nashville asked, but by now, Taurus had also realized what was going on, and he was sprinting towards his chariot. "What about Proteus?"

"The young one should stay here," the minotaur suggested. "Proteus is too dangerous."

"What?! C'mon dad, let me go, _please!_"

"No," the red gargoyle said. "Stay here and protect Mr. Robbins."

"I can handle it," the young gargoyle protested, frowning at the adults. "And I can fight-"

**Nashville,** Brooklyn barked in Japanese, glaring at his son. **You will do as we say. If Taurus says you cannot come, then you will stay here. Is that understood?**

Nashville glared at him, but knew that it was pointless to argue back. **Yes, dad,** he conceded, hands in fists.

"Good." Brooklyn turned to Goliath and Taurus. "Let's catch a criminal."

As they glided off into the night, Nashville felt a hand on his shoulder. "I know it's hard," Jeffrey said. "Staying behind with no idea of what might happen to those you love."

"It's not just that," the young gargoyle muttered, kicking a stray rock away from him. "Everyone in the clan treats me like a child, like I can't do anything right or I'm too young to know what's going on. I'm over twenty years old; I can handle it!"

"I'm afraid I cannot go against your father's wishes," the author told him. "Though you must see it from his point of view; he's clearly scared of what's about to happen, and doesn't want you to get hurt."

"I know that! I just want to show him I can handle myself in a fight!"

"Can you honestly say that you would be able to fight and defeat Proteus?" Nashville did not answer, knowing that he very well was not prepared to take on an actual villain. "Let's go inside. Want some tea?"

"Yeah…" The young gargoyle looked up at the moon. "It's late… Elijah missed tonight's _Murder, She Wrote._" He looked at the author. "Are you scared too?"

"Of course. But I know that all we can do now is wait and hope for the best." He led the gargoyle back inside, the two of them hoping that nothing would go wrong.

[][][]

"You know I once learned how to play the theme song," Elijah said as Angela Lansbury biked through the town of Cabot Cove on the small hotel TV.

"That a fact," Dingo asked, listening to the fast piano music that made up the show's theme song. "Ya must be bloody good at the piano, then."

The deaf teen shrugged. "I'm a decent player. Now be quiet, the show's starting."

They were currently in the Redemption Squad's safehouse, which was the entire top floor of a hotel in New York City. It didn't seem like the kind of place a vigilante group would hide out in, but it appeared that hiding in plain sight was their strategy. Elijah was still worried about his uncle and what was going on with Sevarius. If he could, he would be on his way home to his uncle, but Yama was standing guard nearby. While none of the vigilantes showed no signs of hurting him, the teen did not want to test them. Plus, they had a point about keeping his uncle safe, so the teen had resigned himself to stay there… for now. Besides, he didn't get to miss _Murder, She Wrote,_ so at least he wouldn't fall behind.

Meanwhile, in a room down the hall, Hunter hit Wolf so hard in the jaw, one of his teeth went flying. Matrix still restrained the mutate, his body wrapped around the wolf man and pinning him to a chair. Fang stood by the door, watching the interrogation with interest. It had been half an our or so, and the grey mutate had given them nothing about Sevarius.

"Where's Sevarius gone," Hunter asked, glaring at Wolf. "What is he planning'?"

"Fuck you… bitch," Wolf sputtered, returning the glare as blood dripped between his teeth. "I'm… sayin' nothin'."

"Well if he's not gonna say anything, can I at least get his autograph," Fang asked. Hunter gave him a death glare. "What? He used to be on _The Pack,_ and ever since he became a villain, his autographs have gone up in value."

"What could ye possibly need money for," the woman asked him. "And how would ye plan on sellin' it lookin' like ye do?"

"I'd ask you or Dingo, _obviously._"

"You're wastin' your time," Wolf said, trying again to break the silvery restraints that held him. "Sevarius told me nothin' about his plans or where he would go if things went wrong. I was broken out of prison a couple days ago-"

"By who," Hunter demanded.

The grey mutate grinned at her. "I think ya know who, sweetheart."

_The Illuminati,_ she thought, wondering why they would break him out and then do nothing with him. Unless Sevarius was a part of the organization… "So ye don't know where Sevarius is," she said. "Matrix?"

MY SCANS INDICATE THAT HE IS BEING TRUTHFUL, the artificial intelligence said. THOUGH I REMIND YOU THAT I CANNOT BE 100% CERTAIN THAT MY RESULTS ARE ACCURATE.

"Better than nothing, I always say," Fang muttered.

"So I'm goin' back to jail," Wolf asked. "Figured you'd be the kind to do the right thing or some shit."

"Correct," the Scottish woman replied.

"I'll be sure to tell them all about ya."

"Feel free te. Ye have no idea where we are, and be certain that if ye try te escape again, we'll hunt ye down like the dog ye are."

Wolf leaned forward as far as he could, staring her down. "Bring it on."

"Ooh, tension," Fang said, finally walking over to the two. "So how about ya sign something for me before we knock ya out, and-" Hunter quickly hit Wolf, knocking him unconscious. "Dammit, Hunter!"

"We're not doin' this for the money," she said, walking towards the door. "Matrix, make sure he remains restrained."

YES, HUNTER.

"Now what, fearless leader," Fang said, following Hunter out of the room and down the hall. "How're we supposed to find the good doctor now?"

"Ah'll think of something," she replied curtly.

The winged mutate snickered. "Oh, Dingo's gonna have a field day with ya!" Hunter ignored him, walking into Dingo's room to find him and Elijah still engrossed in their mystery show. Yama straightened up, giving her a questioning look.

"Nothing," she informed the gargoyle. "Apparently, Sevarius only mutates the worst kind of people."

"I can see that," the gargoyle said, watching Fang grab a beer from the mini fridge and down it in less than ten seconds. "I would be happy to have a few words with him."

"He's out like a light thanks to William Wallace here," Fang said, sitting on the bed and looking at the TV. "Who's the old granny?"

"Jessica Fletcher," Elijah and Dingo said at the same time, not looking away from the show.

"Seriously," Hunter asked, frowning at Dingo. "Sevarius is out there and you're watching TV?"

"Just waitin' on ya, Sheilah," the Australian, turning to look at her. "Wolfie's not sayin' a word, so where do we go from here?"

"Can't you track him or something," the deaf teen asked, finally looking at the vigilante group as the show went to commercial. "Or do you know if he has any hiding places?"

"We know of a few hideouts," Hunter said. "But they're spread out all over the city; he could be in any of them, and finding out which one is near impossible."

"That's if he's even _in_ New York," Dingo included. "He could be anywhere in the state by now."

"So I'm stuck here indefinitely," Elijah asked. "No offence, but I thought you all would be better at your jobs."

"We're still tryin' to get this 'hero' stuff down," Fang reminded him. "We're doin' our best here."

"_Most_ of us are," Yama corrected him. "And there must be some way of figuring out where he is hiding." Hunter's earpiece beeped, and she stepped into the hall, pressing the device as she talked to someone in a low voice.

"Here we go again," the Australian complained, going over to the fridge to get a beer of his own.

"Who's she talking to," the teen asked.

_"The Director,"_ the winged mutate answered in an overly dramatic voice. "They're the ones that got the bright idea to get us all together like some crazy boy band. Hunter talks to them, and we get sent on dangerous, life-threatening missions."

"Why'd you even agree to join if you don't like it," Elijah asked.

"Ain't got a choice," Dingo said, downing half the can of beer. "I'm still wanted in some places, and if I refused, she would've given them my home address."

"I joined to regain my lost honor," Yama explained. "I betrayed my clan, and was banished for my crimes. I cannot return until I have redeemed myself, and only I will know when that time has come." He looked at the hilt of his sword. "My love still waits for me there…"

"And I was just like 'Fuck it,' and joined," Fang said, crumpling his empty can and tossing it across the room.

_"No,"_ the gargoyle said, glaring at him. "You nearly helped Sevarius turn Times Square into a mutate hotspot on New Years, and the only reason you're not locked up is because of Hunter."

"You _helped_ Sevarius," the teen asked, gaping at the the mutate. "You were gonna turn thousands of people into mutates like you? You helped him do what he was going to do to me?"

"Hey, a job's a job," Fang answered nonchalantly. "Like when I attacked your friend on Halloween; it's all in the past."

The deaf teen turned to Yama. "Is… He's not joking, is he? Is he _actually_ that bad?"

"I'm afraid not," the Japanese gargoyle said. "At least now we can keep an eye on him."

"Wanna go, horn-head," Fang asked, hands cackling with electricity. "Give me a reason; I dare ya!"

"Ah can't leave ye boys alone for a minute, can I," Hunter asked as she walked back into the room. "C'mon; we're heading out."

"You found Sevarius," Elijah asked, getting to his feet. "How?"

"Well, Sevarius, it seems, had a little help and is half-way across the ocean by now." Everyone sighed, but the leader of the Redemption Squad continued. "But we need te stop an attack upstate from here."

"An attack," Dingo repeated. "Who is it this time? The Illuminati?"

"The Director says that it's an unknown creature, a shape-shifter," Hunter explained. "They haven't made a move yet, but Ah have a sense they're not here for a peace mission."

"So we're what? Damage control," Fang asked sarcastically. "And how exactly does this _Director_ know all this? It's like a… a… _day-os ex-makana._"

_"Deus ex-machina,"_ Elijah and Yama said at the same time.

"Regardless of how they know, we should get there fast." Hunter looked at the teen. "They're in Weisman, and seeing that they're here the same day ye were kidnapped by Sevarius-"

"They could be working together," Elijah finished, the blood draining from his face. "They could be going after my uncle, and the gargoyles are probably out looking for me." He looked at the motley crew assembled in the room. "You have to help them!"

"'Course we're gonna help," Dingo said, standing up and cracking his knuckles. "Guess Mrs. Fletcher'll have ta wait!"

"Then we have no time to lose," Yama said, striding out the door.

"Hey! Are we forgettin' someone," Fang asked. "We gonna bring Wolf with us?"

"We'll drop him off at prison on the way," Hunter said as she, Dingo and Elijah followed the gargoyle.

"Can we drop Fang off there too," Yama asked hopefully.

"I HEARD THAT!"

[][][]

Proteus looked at the two-story human home the detective had driven him to, figuring this must be the Robbins residence she spoke of. He was not worried about not recognizing anyone; his disguise had an excuse [a head injury] to not remember everything, and after listening to the conversation for few minutes, he should be able to fake it.

A man exited the house, followed by a dog. "Is that you, Ms. Maza," he asked, using a stick to check the ground in front of him.

_He's blind,_ Proteus realized. The dog growled at him a little, but did not approach.

"Yes," Elisa replied, hugging the man. "Mason's here with me. He just needs some rest." She led the blind man over to Proteus, and the human touched his arm [it took the New Olympian all his strength to not knock his hand away].

"I do not blame you for any of this," Robbins told him. "There was no way you could have known it would happen. I'll still give you your pay during your time off to heal."

"Thank you, Sir," Proteus answered, feigning a headache and touching his head. "I don't feel so good, though."

"Let's get you inside," Elisa said, leading him inside. Once again, the New Olympian had a feeling that he had seen this human before, but knew that was impossible. The only humans he had seen were the ones in this country, and-

"Ms. Maza," he muttered, a small smile on his face as he was led inside the building. It had been about a year, but he now realized why he recognized her; she and a few gargoyles had showed up on the shores of New Olympus, where she had been promptly arrested for being a human. He had tricked her into escaping, but she stupidly stopped him from leaving the island, and now, he would have the opportunity to thank her personally.

"Lay him down on the couch," Robbins ordered, pointing to a small couch; they were in a library of some kind, with shelves of books surrounding them and a cheerful fire lit in a fireplace. "I'll get us some water." Proteus lay down on the cushions, hiding his newfound knowledge with a wince as the blind man felt the wall, walking out of the room.

"Thank you," he said gratefully. "And thank you, Ms. Maza. You are truly a life-saver."

She smiled a little. "No problem," she answered. She looked out towards the door leading to the hallway, saw someone, then quickly looked back to him. "Just keep your head down and still; don't sit up."

"I will do so." Now recognizing who she was, and with the blind man distracted, he could get back to his favorite past time: getting revenge. "And… I apologize for not recognizing you earlier, Ms. Maza."

The detective frowned at little, finding his last statement confusing. "Well… thank you," she said, turning away to look at the clock. "It's nearly eleven, and-"

Proteus leaped up, grabbed her by her jacket, and threw her into the wall. She went flying through the air, knocking over a shelf of books before crumpling to the ground, unconscious. He stood up, shape-shifting into his actual appearance as he stared at her with a triumphant grin.

"Are you okay in there," he heard the blind human call from a distant room.

"We're fine," the New Olympian called back in Mason's voice, starting to walk towards the unconscious human. He lowered his voice. "It's been a while, Ms. Maza. You may have prevented me from escaping New Olympus once before, but you cannot stop me this time."

"Hey!"

Proteus whirled around at the yell, surprised to see a small gargoyle standing there. It looked young, just a mere child, and it stared at him with a mixture of surprise and anger. This must have been who Elisa had seen in the doorway seconds before.

"What are you," he demanded, drawing a small sword on his belt. "You better hope you didn't kill Elisa!"

The New Olympian quickly got over his shock, and laughed at the winged creature. "Oh, it's so funny to think that you can threaten me," he said, walking towards the gargoyle, who shakily pointed his sword at the villain. "You are not prepared or skilled enough to stop me, and I know you are alone; your kind lives in groups, and I suspect the adults went to look for your missing friend."

"Elijah! What did you do to him," the gargoyle demanded.

"I won't say; it's fun watching you suffer." Proteus grinned, a new idea popping into his head. "But, perhaps I can teach you a lesson."

The New Olympian changed again, his body becoming longer and more scaly. His hands molded to his sides, and his eyes became yellow. Soon, they were staring at a large snake with a head as big as a TV. The gargoyle stared at it in shock, his sword momentarily dropping a little. The dog appeared in the doorway, now barking at Proteus, but the New Olympian was not scared of some pathetic animal.

"I'm not one to usually play with my food," the monster said, grinning evilly at the young warrior, "but I'll make an exception with you!"


End file.
